


What Dreams Become

by Aya_Diefair



Series: Gift Fics [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Crossover, Alternate Universe - Timeline Shifts, Anxiety Attacks, Autistic Harry Potter, Autistic Tony Stark, Background Violence Toward A Child, Child Harry Potter, Desi/Black Harry Potter, Desi/Black Potter Family, Gen, Illegal Child Custody Transfer, Implied Racial Profiling, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Panic Attacks, Parent Tony Stark, Past Relationship(s), Referenced Canon Medical Condition
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:27:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23063947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aya_Diefair/pseuds/Aya_Diefair
Summary: It all started with a letter, a name, and a trip to London.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Tony Stark
Series: Gift Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1657555
Comments: 43
Kudos: 278
Collections: Harry Potter Fanfic Must Reads, MC4A Year 3, Marvel Fanfic Must Reads, Monthly Challenges for All





	1. Nothing to Lose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Magi_Silverwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magi_Silverwolf/gifts).



> **Author's Note:** This was intended to be a Secret Santa gift for one of my really good friends, but then life happened and this thing also decided to turn into a monster (go figure) as pretty much everything I write tends to do. Oops.
> 
> Anyway, This is my first ever crossover story between Harry Potter and Iron Man, so I hope my take on it is satisfactory. The timeline on this is obviously modified to slot in everything nice and neatly between the two verses, and I'm comfortable to say that this takes place—let's say 6-8 ish weeks—after Iron Man.
> 
> Without further ado...  
> \----------------------
> 
>  **Legal Disclaimer:** My work is my own creative intelligence and property, but I do not own the original source material it stems from (I wouldn't be writing fanfiction if it was). The opinions and interpretations of characters reflected in my stories may not follow what is portrayed from the source material. Please don't sue me, I'm a stay at home mom.
> 
>  **Word Count:** 5,893 words (per Google Docs)  
> 

* * *

**Nothing to Lose**

It was the first day of summer and a light drizzle decided to spit from the overcast sky above. Rain on a Saturday would put a damper on most people's weekend plans, yet it didn't stop the Dursleys from packing their luggage for their annual summer vacation. They were scheduled to catch a train that evening, so the house was more chaotic than normal for Harry. Everyone barked orders at him from all sides, demanding various tasks be done right away. He was being even more overworked than usual, and it took every ounce of strength in his almost nine-year-old body to keep from crumbling under the strain.

Unfortunately, his tender mind had learned early how to disassociate from these situations and simply go with the flow. He barely registered the light rain that slowly soaked his oversized clothing and thick hair as he slogged back and forth between the house and the car. He was carrying Dudley's third heavy suitcase to the car's boot when the post carrier arrived. Rather than have him walk to the door, Harry accepted the mail and tucked it under his shirt, closed the boot, and ran back in out of the rain.

The ruckus upstairs told him the Dursleys were doing their final room and luggage checks, which was their way of procrastinating and avoiding their last pre-vacation obligation: taking Harry to Mrs. Figg for the week they were away. He didn't mind walking there by himself, but Harry knew by now that being dropped off was intended to keep up the Dursleys' appearances to the community, so offering to walk would only anger them.

Heading for the kitchen, he pulled the mail from under his shirt and absently stared down at it. It took him several precious seconds to realize that his last name was printed on the top letter: Potter Family.

There must have been a mixup in the mail, no one in the house was a Potter except for him, and he was only one person, not a family. Staring at the single word for what seemed like ages, it dawned on him then.

_This was for his parents._

Harry froze in front of his cupboard. He wasn't sure why something for them would come here. It had never happened before, or at least not since he'd been handling the mail. Whatever the reason behind it, he needed to find out as soon as possible. Risking a glance up the stairs to make sure the coast was clear, he quickly opened the cupboard door and tucked the letter under the clothes he'd stuffed into an old overnight bag and closed it before heading to the kitchen to finish cleaning up breakfast. He refused to allow the strange feeling in his gut to overwhelm him. He couldn't afford to raise suspicion. He _couldn't._

If he ruined the Dursleys' vacation before it even started, they would make sure his summer would be the absolute worst one to date. Dropping the rest of the mail on the table, Harry rolled up the sleeves of the large t-shirt above his elbows to start washing, drying, and putting the dishes away before cleaning the counters and sink.

Unfortunately, it didn't keep him distracted, and it was times like this when he longed to have his parents back so he could feel valued, wanted, _loved_. Maybe that letter held a clue to who they were and what they were like. The Dursleys never liked him asking about them at all, so he'd learned to accept whatever they did decide to say about them, even if it was only nasty things.

Harry's mind reeled the entire short ride to Mrs. Figg's house. He was all too aware of the overnight bag scorching his lap as he yearned to open the letter hidden within it. Although his legs were numb from being wedged between the seat in front of him, the door, and even more of Dudley's things, he made sure to keep quiet until they stopped on the curb.

He barely got the car door closed before Vernon grabbed his shoulder and got in his face. It took everything Harry had to not flinch.

"Now listen here, _boy,_ " Vernon said sternly, "if I find out you even look at someone the wrong way while you are here, you can look forward to the lashing of your life. I will not tolerate having my family's fun be cut short because of your misbehaving."

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry responded instinctively. He made sure to keep the monotony from his voice; Uncle Vernon always interpreted that as Harry 'copping an attitude.'

It must have been satisfactory as Vernon placed a meaty hand on his back and gave him a firm push toward the house. Harry clutched his bag to his chest as they headed for the door.

Mrs. Figg answered after the third knock, greeting them with a soft smile and the heavy aroma of what Harry knew was her favourite vegetable soup cooking in the background.

"Thank you for agreeing to watch him while we are away, Mrs. Figg. The boy hates to travel, as you know," Vernon said almost too nicely. "Here is everything you should need. The phone numbers are all there for emergencies only. He has his belongings on him."

Mrs. Figg stepped aside to allow Harry to enter while she spoke with Vernon. It would be his first time staying at her house for more than two days overnight, and he wasn't quite sure how he felt about it. Gripping his bag close to him as he looked around the cramped space, he noticed it was cleaner than usual. At least the smell of soup was relatively nice, and her assortment of felines must have been tucked away sleeping since he didn't see any roaming about. Not too unusual, but also a little strange.

After Mrs. Figg finished with Vernon, she showed him to the room he'd be staying in, which confused Harry.

"I thought that you would like a little more privacy than what the couch has to offer," she said.

He didn't even know the house had a second bedroom. "Thank you, Mrs. Figg."

"I'll leave you to organize your things. The nightstand drawers are cleared for you." With that, Mrs. Figg closed the door behind her.

Taking a seat on the single bed, he supposed being here for an entire week wouldn't be that bad after all.

Unpacking his things, Harry pulled out the letter and looked over it again carefully. The envelope was very high quality, and the _SI_ stamp embossed on the top corner made it even fancier. He broke the seal and pulled out a letter, a pamphlet, and two tickets. Reading the letter, Harry still couldn't get over the fact it was technically addressed to his parents. It was an invitation to a small science fair-like event being held in London the following Saturday. The letter itself was short yet personal and almost sounded desperate. It was handwritten, the letters sharp and crisp, and even the scrawled signature was somehow lovely. The small heart inked at the end of it, however, had Harry tilting his head in confusion.

It slowly dawned on him that this Tony Stark person had known his parents at some point, and that meant he must have information about them. The revelation that someone outside of his aunt and uncle had _known_ his parents was exhilarating and overwhelming all at the same time. Trying to distract his racing mind, Harry picked up the tickets. They were very fancy—shimmering when angled just so—and bore Lily and James' names in big, bold letters with VIP written underneath. Whoever Tony was, he must have been quite fond of them to offer such a pass.

This event was all about science in some form or another intended to promote SIs projects. Science was one of Harry's favourite subjects in school despite the fact he had to curb his marks to avoid the backlash from Petunia for 'cheating' and for 'making Dudley look stupid'. The latter wasn't all that hard to do, unfortunately. Harry read over the pamphlet probably a dozen times before Mrs. Figg came knocking, informing him that lunch was ready.

He reluctantly put the letter and tickets away and left his room, mind swimming with the knowledge that there was someone else out in the world who knew who his family was. Though he was unaware of it, something deep within Harry had made a decision. He had to get to that expo. He had to meet this Tony Stark. He had to learn more about his parents.

**.oOo.**

Monday came slowly, and Harry knew that was Mrs. Figgs' shopping day. She was usually pretty lenient in allowing Harry to go to the library alone whenever they went into town, but this time they were going to London, making her hesitant to agree for him to go to the library this time. After promising he would stay put until she came to fetch him like usual, she agreed to walk him there and inform the librarian of his presence. It gave him the opportunity to explore the depths of the library while she did some overdue shopping.

Harry's objective for today was to research the name from the mysterious letter, and he hoped that the larger metropolitan library would provide more information on him. Despite the impossibility of attending the small event at the end of the week, it couldn't hurt to research someone who loved science like he did _and_ knew his parents somehow. Perhaps there was something about them listed alongside Tony? He could only hope.

"Excuse me," Harry said as he approached the librarian's desk. "Where could I read about Dr. Tony Stark?"

The librarian glanced at him briefly before tapping the keys of the computer. "Dr. Stark. It doesn't sound familiar. American?"

"I believe so," Harry replied, fidgeting with the hem of his oversized t-shirt. "He's a scientist, if that helps? Or at least I think he is," he stammered out. "He'll be here for a science expo on Saturday. It has me curious about him—for a, uh, school project."

He really was a terrible liar.

The librarian hummed as she added something to her search, seemingly oblivious to the nervousness in his voice or the fidgeting as he spoke. Harry absently chewed his inner cheek as he looked around the filing system that surrounded the librarian's space. He was lost in thought when she spoke again, startling him some.

"It looks like this Stark person has been big in the tabloid magazines and major newspapers. You can find those in the back of the library," she said, glancing at him for a moment. "There also seems to be an autobiography his father wrote. It can be found in the non-fiction section under Stark, Dr. Howard."

"Thank you, ma'am," he said, nodding and heading for the back. He hadn't been in that area of a library before.

What he loved most about the library's periodicals section was how well it was organized. Every newspaper and magazine was sorted by month, week, and day and then archived accordingly. Harry was surprised how many magazines had articles about Tony Stark in them, but as he devoured the stack of glossy volumes now on the table beside him, he grew increasingly overwhelmed at what he read and saw.

Harry wasn't really sure what it was he felt as he flipped through the tabloids and smear articles about Tony's less than favourable accomplishments. Several were accusations about propagating war and profiting from it, dubbing him The Merchant of Death. The darker title made sense when he learned that Tony's company used to create military-grade weapons, but none of it deterred Harry. A more recent article talked about him becoming the superhero Iron Man and that his company now focused on its other successful, but lesser-known, projects and achievements. This was what the event at the end of the week was about. He flipped the page to find full-page photos of the scientist between two other people. Tony's arms were wrapped around both of them, and he was pressing a kiss to the woman's temple.

Harry's eyes fixed on the woman. The photo's description stated it was taken at the University of Cambridge, and she was dressed in Masters graduation robes. He would recognize those emerald green eyes anywhere because they were _his_ , except hers were bright with emotion. Her smiling face was framed by beautiful curly hair that teased tints of red in the sunlight against her light brown and freckled skin. Tearing his gaze away, Harry focused on the man whose facial structure was similar to his own. He had hazel eyes that crinkled with his broad grin, and the warm glow of his brown skin and his dark, thick, unruly hair were intimately familiar. Even the glasses he wore were circular like Harry's. It was like looking into a mirror that showed his older self. These were his _parents_. With the infamous Tony Stark to boot.

The swirling storm of emotions racing through him threatened Harry to become faint.

He _had_ to figure out a way to get to that expo—by any means necessary.

**.oOo.**

The week dragged by. During the day, when he wasn't helping in the garden or cleaning the house, Harry tried to not act too suspicious while he figured out ways to get back to London to attend the expo. At night, his mind buzzed with information from the library. Between that and his discomfort at not being in his normal environment, Harry hardly slept.

His visit to the library left him wondering about who his parents actually were and what they did for a living that lead them to be involved with someone like Tony. The tabloids didn't offer much aside from stating that Lily was described as a college sweetheart and James was one of his best friends. The pictures, however, told a much different story. The way the three hugged, held hands, and even kissed each others' temples and cheeks screamed that the trio were more than friends. This made it more confusing for Harry to sort out, but hoped he could find more answers soon. He just needed to figure out how to get to Tony.

Mrs. Figg wasn't the sort to shop in the city very often, so convincing her to go back was next to impossible. Harry knew she kept a jar of change on the mantle, so he could easily filch enough bus fare to get to and from London, though explaining why he was riding unescorted would be a problem. It would also mean disappearing out from under Mrs. Figg's watchful eye, and he knew there would be repercussions from the Dursleys if the police got involved with him stealing, running away, and breaking into a private event. Even if it wasn't the ideal solution, right now Harry thought it would be worth it.

His bigger problem was the tickets had his parents' names on them. Even if he got to The Royal Society Headquarters unbothered and alone, he definitely would get stuck at the gates with no escort or proper identity to match the name. Perhaps he would be able to pass himself off as James Potter and ask to wait inside for his mother, Lily. The only other option he could see was to simply find a way to sneak inside. Either way, he simply couldn't give up on getting in. Now that he knew Tony existed, he _needed_ to know more about his parents than the meager details the Dursleys and the tabloids had provided.

Friday had finally crept up on Harry, and he had one last and more realistic plan to try and set in motion before resulting in theft and running away. Perhaps the same excuse about researching Tony he used on the London librarian would work with Mrs. Figg. She was always supportive of his studies and trips to the library, so he hoped this would be no different.

She was in the middle of cooking liver and onions when he hesitantly approached. "Mrs. Figg?"

"Yes, dear?" she asked, shooing a cat off the counter.

"I—um, was wondering if we could go back to London tomorrow?" Harry swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

"Oh, I don't know about that. We could pop into the local library if that's what you're after. Trekking to the city to go somewhere that we have down the street is a bit silly, don't you think? " she lectured, not taking her eyes off her food.

"No, not the library," he said, pulling at the hem of his shirt. "It—It's actually for a school project. See, there's a science expo being held there tomorrow, and I got the tickets already, but I need an escort."

He hoped it was enough to convince her.

"Hm," Mrs. Figg said, setting her spatula down and lowering the temperature of the cooktop. "For school? Why didn't the Dursleys say anything about this?"

' _Crap,'_ Harry thought.

"It must have slipped their minds during all of their planning and packing. Understandable, really. I nearly forgot about it myself until I was studying my science homework and came across the tickets and pamphlet…"

Mrs. Figg thought for a moment, pulling some dinner plates from the cupboards and placing them on the counter. "I have to harvest the catnip and other herbs tomorrow morning. When does this science fair start?"

"It's not until early afternoon," he assured her. Truthfully, he wasn't quite sure when it opened. He only knew the time on the ticket for the VIP meet-and-greet and that was what he was determined to get to. "I can help get the garden harvest done, and I'll do all of the cleanup for dinner, and make breakfast and clean that up too and make packed lunches to take. It is kind of an important trip, and I have to write a report on it so…"

Harry hoped his rambling didn't raise too much suspicion. Petunia hated it when he offered to do extra chores and rattled them off like he just did, but doing this was the only way he ever got to do something that would otherwise inconvenience the Dursleys. It was a hard habit to break, and Harry hoped it hadn't just cost him everything.

"I see," Mrs. Figg hummed. "Quite odd that your uncle never mentioned it, though. And to have Dudley not attend seems unusual as well. Maybe I should call them to verify…"

"No—" Harry yelped, startling Mrs. Figg. "I mean… Please don't bother them. I really don't want to intrude on their vacation for something like this. It's extra credit for students who are struggling with their grades," he lied, scratching the back of his head. "I'm not doing so well at it, and Dudley is… They were really unhappy when I mentioned it the first time, and I would really hate to bring it up with them again… Please, would you think about it, Mrs. Figg?"

The old woman studied him for a moment then let out a deep sigh. "Very well. But I'll need to see this pamphlet and assignment before I make a final decision, Harry. You can get it after supper. For now, would you be a dear and toss the salad?"

"Yes ma'am. Thank you, Mrs. Figg," he said a little too eagerly.

Dinner was relatively quiet, and though he wasn't a fan of liver and onions, Harry made sure he ate his fill without complaint and cleared the table when they were finished. While Mrs. Figg went to watch her evening program on the telly, he cleaned up the kitchen. He used the time to mentally plan his next steps should she agree to head back to London.

Once her program finished, he dug out the pamphlet that came with the tickets. It had all the information on the event: what it was about, where it was being held, and who was going to be there. Harry also dug out his green spiral notebook, the one he used for science work, and showed her the mock assignment he claimed to have copied off the blackboard. Much to his delight, she bought his story with little more fuss.

Sleeping was not an option for Harry that night. He didn't know what to expect tomorrow but knew that he couldn't blow it. Learning something, _anything_ about who his parents were would be worth every punishment he would receive should his deceptions be discovered. All he could hope for now was enough sheer dumb luck to actually get in with the tickets he had. It wasn't too farfetched to hope it would all work out. He'd experienced strange occurrences before, and he prayed for another well-timed miracle to happen again.

Morning finally came, and Harry decided tossing and turning on the too-comfortable mattress wasn't going to do him any good, so instead he got up and dressed in the nicest pair of jeans and t-shirt he'd packed. Trying to control his bed head was a lost cause, but he attempted to finger-comb through the thick, dark locks anyway. Giving himself a moment, he gazed into the mirror and tried to recall the photo of his mother and father from the magazine.

There was indisputable evidence that he was their son. He had her eyes down to the very shape and where they centered on his face. He had his well-defined nose and facial structure. She had the same curve to her lips, and he shared their skin tones. It was surreal to finally have faces to their names, to know what they looked liked, to see who he came from.

Collecting himself, Harry took a deep breath and wiped the water from his eyes. Even if today was an utter failure, at least he knew where to look when he wanted to see his parents again. But for now he had to focus on making sure Mrs. Figg didn't change her mind. Remembering he had yard work to do, Harry hastily changed out of his nice clothes and made his way down the hall, careful to not trip over a cat or step on a tail. He found his way to the kitchen and promptly prepared some breakfast.

Mrs. Figg was easy to please and always ate a simple breakfast consisting of an English muffin with jam, tea, and a single hard-boiled egg. Harry was afraid he wouldn't be able to keep anything down, but he didn't want to display anymore odd behavior than he already had. He decided to copy her meal and hope for the best. Just as he finished cooking, Mrs. Figg tottered in wearing her old, fluffy polka-dotted housecoat and matching slippers. His first thought was that she looked like one of her cats in that outfit. He winced, knowing that idea would be forever burned into his brain.

"Good morning, Mrs. Figg. I made breakfast. I hope you like it."

He sat the hot teapot down before taking his seat. Harry promptly added strawberry jam to his muffin and cut up his hard-boiled egg. It looked perfect, which boosted his confidence a bit. He tried to not eat too quickly, worried it wouldn't settle if he did, before he cleared the table and cleaned up the kitchen. Mrs. Figg was taking her time getting dressed, so he took the liberty of starting on the garden alone. Clipping catnip was probably one of the easiest garden tasks he had ever been assigned, so he and Mrs. Figg had it done in record time. The more time-consuming part was hanging it all up to dry in her tiny shed.

Mrs. Figg checked the bus schedule when they got in. "It looks like the next one will be here at ten past eleven. About an hour yet."

"That's fine," Harry said, though it sent his nerves back into overdrive. "I can get lunch packed for the trip and shower, if that's alright?"

"Oh, of course, dear. I'll have a cuppa and go after you. I don't take long to wash up," she said, taking a seat in the well-worn pink floral printed armchair.

**.oOo.**

It was a little easier for Harry to tame his thick hair while it was still damp from the shower, but he could only hope that it stayed relatively normal once it dried. After putting on his shoes and adjusting his glasses, he grabbed the worn-out book bag where he'd stowed what he needed for the trip—his science notebook, and his identification—then went to the kitchen to grab the sack lunches and feed Mrs. Figg's cats.

"Ready, Harry?" she asked, opening the front door. Even freshly washed and in nicer clothes, there was still something distinctly Kneazle-like about her. "Do you have everything?"

"Yes, Mrs. Figg."

The bus trip was long and boring, which left Harry's unoccupied mind plenty of time to think of all the ways this trip could go horribly wrong. He'd managed to dodge any questions from Mrs. Figg about the tickets for the time being, sure that she would put them on the next bus back to Little Whinging the second she saw his name wasn't on them, but he could only avoid it for so long. The ticket checker at the gate would need to match them to their identification… all Harry could hope for was a miracle.

"Harry, dear," Mrs. Figg said when the bus driver announced they were ten minutes away, "I'll need to have my ticket to get in. If I may?"

' _Crap,'_ he thought, a shaky hand going into his book bag. "Alright. Okay."

' _Please, please, please don't let her notice the name…'_ he silently prayed as he pulled it out. Taking a reluctant glance at the fancy cardstock, Harry handed it to Mrs. Figg and swallowed, trying to keep what was left of his breakfast down.

"Interesting," she said curiously, turning it in her hand. "It simply says 'VIP Guest Pass'."

Perplexed, Harry glanced at his own pass, feeling a strange relief seeing it on his too. "Yeah. They do."

"Hm. I suppose I wasn't expecting anything different."

Something in her voice told Harry otherwise. If he was being honest with himself, he was just as surprised as Mrs. Figg. Strange things always happened to him when he was afraid or in trouble, like the shadows seeming to shift in the corner of his eye or he suddenly ending up somewhere near-impossible to get to from where he was. He was curious about this new development, but he'd have to think about it later. Right now, he had more important things to worry about.

After deboarding and taking the short walk to The Royal Society building, the line to get in wasn't as long as he anticipated. Of course everyone else would have arrived when it first opened; all he cared about was meeting Tony.

The ticket checker didn't cause them any trouble, only made a comment about how peculiar it was that their guest passes had VIP on them, but otherwise sent them on their way. At a kiosk, they traded their paper cards for plastic passes on lanyards. As soon as they were all checked in, Harry used the map to scope out where the meet-and-greet would be held while Mrs. Figg tugged him over to the cafeteria-like area to have lunch.

"Harry, let's eat first. This place is quite big and you'll need your energy," she prompted, unwrapping the cold cut sandwich Harry had expertly put together.

"I need to use the restroom first, if that's alright. Just there," he said, pointing at the far side of the open room.

She looked apprehensive, but nodded her approval. "Hurry back, and be safe!"

Now was his chance. Harry mingled with the crowd as he headed for the bathrooms. When he couldn't see Mrs. Figg anymore, he took a sharp right down the long hallway that would lead to the main stage. After showing his VIP pass to get through security, it didn't take long to find the line. He hoped it would move quickly as most people here looked like fans that would be content with an autograph and a photo with Tony.

He fidgeted with the lanyard and the plastic VIP badge around his neck, focusing on his breathing and mentally coaching himself to not pass out. Mrs. Figg would start to worry soon, but right now he didn't care about that. There were only five people in front of him… three… one… He blinked, and a man in a black suit held the door open for him.

"You're next."

This was it. This was his one and only chance.

Tony was dressed like he always was in the photographs; sporting a clean, pin-striped black suit. He was turned away from the door as Harry entered, signing something on the table next to him, and it took all Harry's strength to unclench his hands and approach him.

"He-hello, Dr. St-Stark."

He wanted the floor to swallow him whole. Why did he have to stutter?

"Hey, squirt," Tony said, glancing his way for a split second as he finished signing the postcard-sized picture.

He quickly did a double-take. Harry was a little perplexed by the sudden gesture as Tony put the pen down and gave him his undivided attention. It felt exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time.

After what felt like ages, Tony snapped out of his staring and blinked a few times, looking everywhere but at him now. "You're alone? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead, sir," Harry responded automatically. "But I-I believe you knew them? Lily and James Potter? I have a letter."

Harry tore his gaze away to open his book bag and dig out the letter, not wanting to process the look on Tony's face at the moment.

"This came to my aunt and uncle's house last week," he quickly explained. The security detail was beginning to shift toward him, paying very close attention to his actions. "With the passes… I had to see you. I wanted to know if…"

Tony accepted the letter Harry held out to him and skimmed over it. Harry trailed off, unable to look at Tony or finish what he was going to say. The security guards were making him very uncomfortable and hyper-aware of how bad this was going to turn. He looked to the floor when the quiet got too thick as he waited for them to take him away. Without warning, Harry felt a hand rest gently on his shoulder, prompting him to tense and look up. Tony was now at eye level with him, and Harry saw his expression change from concern, to surprise, to what looked like recognition. But that was impossible; this was their first encounter. Harry swallowed, mustering the courage to finish what he wanted to say.

"I hoped you could t-tell me more about them? About Lily and James? They died when I was very young and… my… my aunt and uncle, they… didn't get along so..."

Tony was shocked by the response. Noticing the VIP badge, Tony grabbed it and held it in his palm, reading the details on it. Seeing there was no name—Harry still had no idea how that had happened—he let go of it, his expression puzzled and confused.

"What's your name?"

"Harry Potter, sir," he said, shifting his gaze to watch one of the black suits move toward Tony. "I had to see you because you knew them. Right? You knew my parents?"

It felt like his persistence on the topic was going nowhere, and it had Harry wonder why Tony wasn't responding.

Harry swallowed, seeing the black suits shuffling about in his peripherals. It reminded him of how the shadows sometimes moved, making him nervous. This was it, he was going to get tossed out now. He just knew it. The hand that now gripped his shoulder grounded him enough to refocus back on Tony's face. What he saw there was a sad, almost sympathetic look.

"You're really Lily and James' kid..." Tony half-whispered, eyes seeming to glass over. "Yes, I knew them."

Harry didn't know what to make of Tony's expression in that moment, but before he could begin to absorb it, a lot of things began happening at once.

"Sir?" a tall, intense man in black said, moving to Tony's side. "We have a minor situation."

"Not now, Happy," Tony said.

"An old lady reported she lost her charge. Male, nine years old, black hair, brown skin, round glasses…" the man in black nodded at Harry then. "Everything fits this kid."

"Not now, Happy!" Tony snapped, causing Harry to flinch and pull away from his grasp.

"Sir, this kid obviously ditched his guardian and nicked the badge to sneak in here. She is frantic, saying he was supposed to be in the restroom."

Harry stood very still as he listened to the suits draw the conclusion he knew they would when he got caught. Tony was quiet, not seeming to want to accept the accusation, but after a heavy breath, Harry saw that he reluctantly complied. It felt like Harry's world was collapsing all around him at that moment.

"Sorry, squirt." Tony returned to his full height, snapping out of his trance-like reverie, and turned to address the man in black. "Notify the goons with event security and have them tell this kid's guardian we found him and will escort him back immediately."

Harry looked around him before focusing back on the only suit that stood out to him.

"Wait, no. Dr. Stark, sir. I want to know more about my parents. Please. What were they like? How did they meet you? Please, sir?" Herry pleaded as the one Tony called Happy moved over beside him and put a light hand against his back. "Please. I need to talk to you! Please!"

Tony acted like he hadn't heard him. Instead, he handed the man next to Harry a postcard from the table and made sure to not look Harry's way again. Tony was soon surrounded by others wearing black suits, completely blocking him from view. Harry's spirits plummeted, the weight of disappointment and defeat causing him to slump his shoulders as he watched the black mass disappear behind a set of doors. Happy stood in front of him now, guiding him to the door he had entered from. The man looked far from happy to Harry, but rather very intimidating, having a fleeting thought about how he got such a nickname.

"Let's go, kid," the man said with a stern tone. "Let's get you back to your guardian."

Harry didn't even try to protest or resist, not wanting to cause any further trouble than he already had. He knew Mrs. Figg was never going to let him out of her sight ever again now because of this stunt. It was going to take a lot of convincing to keep her from telling his aunt and uncle about it, too. He wondered if the local library would have anything with photos of his parents and Tony. At least he could still see them that way.

At least he knew he tried.


	2. Everything to Gain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note:** Oh my gosh, I came through in a timely manner for an update? [gasp]
> 
> Well, here is the second half of the story. Enjoy. :)  
> \----------------------
> 
>  **Legal Disclaimer:** My work is my own creative intelligence and property, but I do not own the original source material it stems from (I wouldn't be writing fanfiction if it was). The opinions and interpretations of characters reflected in my stories may not follow what is portrayed from the source material. Please don't sue me, I'm a stay at home mom.
> 
>  **Word Count:** 5,330 words (per Google Docs)  
> 

* * *

**Everything to Gain**

Tony paced the length of the small office he'd been ushered into, his mind reeling with the jumble of information the kid had word-vomited as he was being pulled away from him. He wasn't sure what to make of any of it and wondered if what Happy said was partially true—maybe the kid was lying to get his attention for some reason and just so happened to pull random information from the tabloids to use on him. It wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility, but the source material provided was certainly intriguing and it definitely caught his attention.

He hadn't seen or heard the names James and Lily Potter for over a decade. Up until now, he mostly convinced himself the couple was nothing more than a fever dream, possibly induced by a bout of insomnia, excessive alcohol consumption, a blur of never-ending work, experiments, and tinkering, mixed with the countless visits to SI's new London office. That idea was supported by their sudden, untraceable disappearance from both his life and the world at large. The only evidence that their relationship had even been real were the tabloid magazines and newspapers from the few events they attended with him, his own memories, and a single photo.

Of course Tony had known when Lily became pregnant, but it never crossed his mind that they might have left because of that. The sting of their abandonment had hurt too much to try and rationalize it back then, and even now it still had a bite. He couldn't blame the couple, he supposed. The relationship the three had shared wasn't exactly normal, and the fact they didn't bother hiding their affections in public had left quite a few officials scratching their heads. Raising a child in the public eye like that wouldn't be healthy, he tried to rationalize with himself.

This didn't make any sense either, he decided, taking a seat on the couch. Tony recalled a conversation they had one evening all those years ago. Lily was extra giggly and bubbling with excitement, and James was combing his hands through his hair as his leg bounced eagerly where he sat on the couch beside her. They asked him to be one of the child's godfathers, which surprised him, to say the least. They had only been together about 3 years by then, and Tony knew they had far more qualifying friends who could fill the role much more effectively than he would.

He remembered they had decided on two names, Haridard and Harini. There was no mention of Harry that he could recall, aside from a secondhand joke one of their friends made about giving the kid a nickname. At least, he thought he remembered that part; truthfully, he'd been too caught up with the honor they were offering him to focus on much else.

Maybe they changed their minds?

Tony had been hesitant to sign the papers, though he would have done anything for them. He was afraid things were becoming too good to be true: he was _happy,_ he was _loved,_ and not for any materialistic or physical things, but for just himself. It was only a matter of time before it all fell apart. What if they realized that he would be no good at handling a kid, much less taking care of one?

He shook those thoughts away, feeling that lump in his throat threaten to choke him again. It didn't matter now, the _why_ didn't matter. What mattered was what happened a mere half-hour ago. When Tony found himself staring down at his own handwriting on the letter Harry handed him, he jumped up and began pacing the room again.

Grabbing a bottled water from the mini-fridge, Tony fidgeted with the cap after taking a long drink as he processed the encounter with Lily and James' alleged son. It was difficult to accept Happy's insistence that the kid was lying and broke into the meet-and-greet—he looked so much like them it was uncanny. The fact the kid sought him out directly simply because he knew them at one point in their lives was strangely flattering and impressive, and the kid knew exactly what to say to get his attention as well. Tony, however, didn't know what to do with this information. He didn't know what to do with such a bombshell dropped on him. Learning that they were dead was…

"Your safety and security have been reinforced, Sir. We won't have any more breaches," one of his security personnel announced seconds after entering. "The stage is being prepped as we speak and should be ready in about fifteen minutes for your presentation. Extra security has been established in order to avoid any potential incidents."

He barely registered what was being explained, too caught up in the kid to really care about what was next on his schedule.

"What about the kid?" he asked.

"Mr. Hogan has escorted the child to the main security desk and has reunited him back with his guardian. No further incident has occurred, though security did accompany them as they left the building shortly after," she explained. "We apologize for the breach, Sir. We will make all necessary adjustments to ensure your safety while you are in our care."

Tony lazily nodded, not concerned about his safety at the moment, finding it ridiculous that his security personnel found a kid a threat in the first place and hoped that it wasn't because of the color of his skin. He made a mental note to address this in their refresher training if it was indeed the case and enforce corrective measures if needed.

"Right. Thank you."

Weighing the bottled water in hand, he flicked it in the air then and watched as it landed straight up on the table beside the paper the kid gave him. Picking up the letter, Tony reread his own words inked onto the high-quality paper embossed with _Stark Industries_ logo on the bottom right corner. The header had Lily and James' name written at the top, followed by a heartfelt note about his presence in London with an invitation to have the couple meet him at the private event. Tony barely remembered writing this letter, much less sending it at all. He gave up ages ago trying to track the Potters down every chance he got. All he knew was they lived somewhere in the UK, yet here was this letter that ended up in the hands of their son anyway.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Tony debated dialing into JARVIS to ask the clever AI how he managed to find the address to begin with, but before he could decide, the security team signaled that it was time for his presentation. Unfortunately, there was a lot of daylight left to burn, so Tony had no other choice but to push any thoughts of Harry and the Potters aside—for the time being at least.

**.oOo.**

Nightfall came and Tony was finally able to retire to his suite for the night. His team left him to sit and filter out the day and hopefully get ready to settle into some form of sleep before his flight back to California tomorrow. But then the name Harry Potter came slamming back to the front of his mind, and he remembered that letter again. Without hesitation, he dialed into JARVIS.

"You have some explaining to do," Tony said as soon as the AI answered. "I am holding a letter in my hand that I know for a fact you approved for delivery to James and Lily Potter. Why didn't you say anything about locating them, huh?"

JARVIS was quiet for a moment; Tony's tone of voice meant he was definitely not happy with him. It was a rare occurrence, but most of the time the scolding was more playful and lighthearted. Not this time. Not for something so important to him.

"I hadn't actually located the Potters, Sir," JARVIS explained slowly, "You never disabled my scan for their names whenever you were within the United Kingdom and Ireland. I only widened my search when I located Lily Potter's maiden name and found that she had a potential living relative. The household had a Potter listed, and I allowed the system to follow through with your orders to send a personal invitation, penned by you, to any event held there should I detect the correct surname."

Tony tapped an uneasy finger on the back of the phone. Shaking his head, he leaned back into the couch. "Why wasn't I told?"

"I didn't want to disappoint you with another wild goose chase, Sir," JARVIS confessed, "I wasn't certain that the letter would even be received considering the unlikelihood of the relation."

Tony's heart sank at the thought. "You're a good boy. Thank you."

"I come from the best, Sir," JARVIS said. "Based on how this conversation started, I presume that something has come of my unapproved contact with this potential relative?"

Tony thought for a long moment as he listened to the AI. "It sure has. Run the name Potter, Harry through the system alongside the address and send me _everything_ you can find directly through to me, please."

"Of course. I am processing the information now…"

Tony placed JARVIS on speaker, grabbed his laptop, and opened the new email with the address the letter was sent to.

"Sir, there seems to be a slight complication. Only his school records are available, and there are no indications of any other personal documents—no birth certificate, no medical records, nothing. It is as if he didn't exist until his admission to primary school three years ago," JARVIS revealed. "It is the opposite of what I found for Lily, which offered everything aside from a dubious record of private homeschooling she attended for secondary school, and of course her enrollment to Cambridge University."

"Weird..." Tony thought for a moment. "Rescan using the name Potter, Haridard. And tell me again what you did to find Lily."

"It was largely by chance, Sir," JARVIS noted, taking care to make sure Tony understood this. "After my initial scan using the information I had on file for Lily and James Potter, I analyzed Lily's school records from the University of Cambridge, locating a possible hometown address and the family name Evans, and down the rabbit hole I went, as they say, I traced the surname down through their children's names to a Petunia Evans Dursley and her family. School records listed a Potter under her guardianship, and based on how impossible it was to find anything else on the rest of the Potters, I concluded they were residing there as well."

The finger tapping on the coffee table was quiet and rhythmic as Tony scanned the meager two emails of information JARVIS found. "How did we not think of that before?"

"You were under a lot of stress, Sir. It was an easy detail to miss, even for me," JARVIS reasoned, peppering in the half-lie.

The kid seemed to be a mediocre student at best according to his marks, but had random spikes of good grades across the board. Regardless of the lack of proof, he knew this child was _theirs_ —he could see it without a doubt as he pulled up the school's recent picture of Harry.

Before long, he found himself in the bedroom digging through his suitcases for a framed image of himself, Lily, and James took after the initial graduation. It was a candid shot of the trio from the semester he spent doing some post-grad work for Cambridge University's science and engineering departments. He was only eighteen at the time, making him roughly the same age as the majority of the freshman students. Most found his presence intimidating, even in the halls, but a select few were brave enough to stop him and pick his brain.

Of course Lily had been one of them. She'd been quick to invite him out for drinks with her and her husband James to delve further into their conversations, and their relationship had quickly blossomed from there. James gave him a run for his money on wit and playful comebacks. Lily managed to keep up with his tech-y spiels on anything and everything, and, if she didn't, she asked all the right questions so that she understood. Their friends were a wild lot, but they were nothing he couldn't keep up with. It wasn't like his own college days when he intentionally became engulfed in a world of frat parties, risky decisions, and attention-seeking behavior, all to drown out the frustration of being stuck on a project or working up to a breakthrough. With Lily and James, he never drowned—he flew.

The relatively large condo he stayed in was rarely empty, which was completely fine with him. Though he made sure his obligations to the university came first, Tony spent most of his free time with the couple. It kept him stimulated yet distracted and grounded when he needed it, and it improved his own personal projects drastically to have such balance. Cuddle piles on the couch in front of the TV were his favourite pastime. Lily or James would often finger-comb his hair, grounding him so his mind wouldn't wander like it tended to do. It was one of the more physical things he appreciated, and he loved doing the same for James at times to help calm his own hyperactivity as well. Tony loved the exchange of affection they easily established; the cuddles, hand-holding, hugs, hair play, bed-sharing, and temple kisses. They never demanded anything more of him, nor he of them. Their presence alone was more than enough to keep him on cloud nine.

There were things about Lily and James that had concerned him, though. James and his friends would leave at random for undetermined amounts of time. Though they never disclosed what they did for work, they always assured him they would be back. Lily went with them on occasion, taking sporadic breaks from school, so Tony made sure to gather notes from her classes so she wouldn't miss anything. It always left him wondering what exactly they did when they all took off. He hoped it wasn't something illegal or mob-related—they didn't seem the type—but he never pried. He knew when classified information was better left undisturbed when it came to his platypus, and their business was no different. With the group's collective brilliance, it was a possibility they were spies or investigators of some kind.

During one of their extended absences, Tony realized how much he'd grown to love—dare he say need?—their company. The condo felt too large yet claustrophobic when he came home to no one for days at a time. Each time they disappeared, he feared it would be the last.

Shortly before Lily's graduation, he caught a snippet of conversation between Lily and James as they sat with their heads together in the common room. It was becoming an increasingly common sight in the flat. He never purposely eavesdropped and made sure to clear his throat or make plenty of noise to announce his presence, but that time they were too involved in their hushed exchange to notice him right away. It seemed James was trying to convince Lily that something was too dangerous to continue, and it didn't sound like the first time they'd had that particular conversation, either. From the way Lily frowned as she gently stroked her heavily rounded belly, Tony figured she was coming around to James' way of thinking. At the time, he assumed they would put an end to their mysterious disappearances and settle into a calmer life. He never dreamed they would vanish without a trace just a few weeks later.

The picture he stared at in hand was taken on the last day he saw them. They were all dressed up for Lily's graduation ceremony, which Tony was the main speaker for. Her cerulean blue gown brought out the green in her eyes and the red from her vibrant hair, contrasting beautifully against her brown skin. Despite being eight months pregnant, she wore that dress with a sassiness and the utmost grace that Tony heavily admired. Her only concession was the white ballerina flats he and James had insisted she wear instead of her favorite, dangerously high heels that rivaled some in Pepper's army of stilettos.

Somewhere deep down, he knew finding Lily and James had felt too good to be true, but when Tony woke the morning after graduation to a desolate house and all of their belongings gone, the shock still hurt just as much as their absence this very day. In their packing, they'd missed this one photograph. Whether they'd done it on purpose or purely by accident he never wished to know, but it was the only thing he had left of them, and he made sure it went with him everywhere. It was the only thing that told him it was real.

JARVIS discovering even a trace of Lily was a breakthrough and almost too overwhelming to process. That James and Lily's child was alive and well and that the kid sought him out? He wouldn't have believed it had he not seen the boy with his own eyes. Of course everyone in Tony's life now would highly advise against what he was currently thinking; he wanted to see Harry again. No, _needed_ to see him again. He needed to know what happened to James and Lily, and, most importantly, he needed to see his godson again.

"Sir, I believe I found something that will be of great interest to you," JARVIS announced, pulling Tony out of his trainwreck of thought. "It appears the name Harry Potter is not the boy's birth name after all."

The email pinged on the laptop, and Tony immediately opened it up. There were three attachments. One was a birth certificate for a Haridard Potter, issued to James Potter and Lily Evans on July 31st, 1999, and the second was the documents that stated he and Sirius as Haridard's godparents. The third made him swallow hard and needed to look away from the screen. It was their will. Regaining his composure, Tony read it carefully. Some parts were a little cryptic, but what mattered was clear as day. If anything should happen to both Lily and James, Sirius Black or Tony Stark would take guardianship of their child.

"There are no legal records that these relatives have guardianship of neither a Harry or Haridard Potter. Chances are the Dursley family possess fabricated documents that allowed him to register to the school without raising suspicion. Strangely, I have no records of the whereabouts of Sirius Black either," JARVIS said, his tone was almost dark. Both he and Tony had dealt with their fair share of shady messes and illegal manipulations recently, and this situation was beginning to fit a similar, but less life-threatening, outcome. "Should I put your attorney on the line?"

Maybe he should give the Dursleys the benefit of the doubt. Pulling Harry from his current living situation wouldn't be rational—it wasn't as if he knew anything about raising a child, let alone adopting one. He would be better off staying there. Though the situation was suspicious enough that he wanted to have JARVIS more thoroughly investigate the quality of their guardianship, it would be extreme to take legal action so soon. That didn't mean Tony was ready to walk away just yet, either.

Tony nibbled at the pad of his thumb, still shocked that these documents weren't modified when they disappeared to take his name off them. It left him with countless questions. Why wasn't he notified of their deaths? Why wasn't he notified of Harry's existence? Why wasn't he given custody of his godson? It seemed like the system had failed yet another child, and now Harry was being raised by his aunt and uncle who, as the kid alluded to, had really disliked his late parents. How could a child be so starved for love and information about his own parents that he seeks out the help of a complete stranger?

"Cancel my flight to California," Tony said, getting up to pace the room again, "and anything else on my schedule for the week. Get the necessary documents for me to take custody of Harry. I'll contact my lawyer in the morning and sort it all out then."

"Should I re-book a flight for two, then?"

Tony clicked his tongue at the cheeky question. His private jet wouldn't reject him from boarding no matter who he brought with him, nor would it leave without him, either. "Wait on that for the time being, I'll let Pepper know what is going on tomorrow."

"I will prepare your funeral arrangements as well, then," JARVIS joked, knowing that Pepper was going to rip into him for the sudden cancellations without discussing it with her first. "Such a shame considering your recent establishment as a child's guardian."

"Cute," Tony said, rolling his eyes. "Nothing is official yet, J. Don't get too ahead of yourself."

"Never, Sir," JARVIS said. "Is there anything else you need me to attend to? Perhaps room service?"

Tony didn't know when he ate last, now that he thought about it. "Why not."

**.oOo.**

Tony couldn't sleep, so he tried to make himself productive and pen a letter about Lily and James for Harry in case he didn't end up with the kid. Unfortunately, he couldn't possibly write it all down in a single night.

All Harry wanted was to know more about his parents, but what could Tony offer to satisfy such a question? There was so much he could say about them, but as he tried to capture everything he felt their own child should know, he realized it wasn't going to be enough. The inner battle started then, struggling to decide if he should give up the only tangible piece of Lily and James he had for Harry. He looked at the photo, weaving the pen through his fingers as he chewed his lip. Giving the boy a _copy_ of the photo wouldn't be a crime, would it?

But after all of this, Tony couldn't bring himself to just toss it in the mail and forget about it. Those eyes, Lily's eyes, kept coming to him. The next thing he knew, it was morning, and he was in the car, punching the address in the navigator and closing in on his destination with a displeased Happy accompanying him.

"You know this is utter madness, right?" Happy argued. "Just showing up to a kid's house is… is flat out _weird_."

"You don't understand, he isn't just some kid. He's…" Tony trailed off, realizing that his sudden appearance at the boy's home would be quite strange.

His motives were pure and rational though. Showing up to hand-deliver his letter would show Harry he cared for him and his late parents. Even if he had to directly deal with Harry's guardians and had no contact with him, then so be it. At least he could say he tried.

"It'll make sense soon, trust me."

Happy grumbled in the passenger seat, shaking his head despite being briefed on what was going on. "I still don't like it."

Tony soon found himself driving down the unimaginative main drag of Little Whinging. The neighborhood was quite bland, even for a collection of tract homes. Each side street looked exactly like the last, so when he turned onto the cul-de-sac for Privet Drive and the navigator chimed their arrival, Tony had to scope out the house number to make sure he didn't accidentally knock on the wrong door.

Happy followed him out of the car but remained standing next to the trunk, cupping his hands in front of him and discreetly scanning the neighborhood. There was no obvious threat. In fact, aside from the occasional swishing curtain that indicated prying eyes were investigating the sleek black Audi, there were no signs of life on the entire street otherwise.

Tony took a breath and adjusted the jacket he wore, fidgeting with the cufflinks briefly before approaching the dark wooden door. He used the gold knocker at the center to give three good raps. As he waited, he decided to unbutton his jacket to appear more casual and also have easier access to the letter stowed in the inner pocket.

The curtain next to the window swished open, and Tony met the nasty glare of a rather horse-faced woman. There was muffled shouting and heavy footsteps followed by the slide of a chain lock and a deadbolt. The door swung open to reveal a very large man wearing the ugliest brown suit Tony has ever seen. The man's face was a strained shade of pink, and Tony couldn't help but think it was because his collar was cutting off his circulation.

"May I help you?" the man asked, appearing somewhat intimidated by Tony's presence.

Though the man's large frame took up most of what he could see inside the home, Tony caught a glimpse of the kid standing frozen in the next room, eyes fixed on him as he held a plate of toast in hand. His eyes widened and he disappeared seconds later.

" _Stop spying on your uncle,_ boy _, and get back to breakfast!"_ a woman's voice shrilled in the background.

"Are you from the office?" the man prompted again, pulling Tony back to the pink blob poking from the brown suit. "Because I wasn't informed of any work-related scheduling on a Sunday."

"I'm not exactly a coworker, Mr. Dursley," he said. "I held a science and technology event in London a few days back, and I believe one of your charges that attended left something valuable behind during our personal meet-and-greet. I wanted to return it in person. I know how important something like that probably is for a kid."

"What? What event? I have no idea what you are talking about. My son was at no science fair, we were out of town," Vernon snarled. "And why would someone like you be concerned about such frivolous things? How did you find my address?"

"A Mr. Harry Potter doesn't live here?" Tony asked, pulling the envelope from his inner pocket and turning it so the address label was visible.

Vernon was taken aback by the action. He pushed himself through the doorway in an attempt to further block it. "What's your business here? Are you from the Department for Education? Or the local authorities? Has the brat been telling lies again?"

His sudden change in tone and body language at the thought of being called on by a government worker raised the hair on Tony's neck. Why would any decent guardian be concerned by a visit from the authorities? Before he could reply, there was a loud noise inside followed by a shriek of pain and a shrill voice drowning it out. Tony's focus immediately shifted to the sounds in the background, but there was no way he could get past the walrus-like roadblock standing in his way.

"Most don't usually expect me even when I have an appointment—is everything alright in there?" Tony asked without pause, craning his neck to peer over the man's head.

"Everything is fine," the man said coldly, trying to close the door further as he stepped onto the porch. "Now, if you're done wasting my time with your nonsense, I'd like you to please leave."

Tony gestured for Happy to approach then. He handed Tony a manila envelope that he popped open and pulled a crisp slip of paper from.

"Government official isn't _technically_ in my job description, but it's nice to know it's effective verbiage. What I do know is that, unless I am mistaken—and I can assure you I'm not, you don't have legal guardianship of Harry Potter. Unless you provide credible proof that he is legally under your care, I could have you arrested for kidnapping, as well as a string of other crimes." Tony held up a copy of Lily and James' will with certain areas highlighted. "I am sure you will find the marked areas of the Potters' Last Will and Testament a useful read. My lawyer will certainly be in touch, but why don't you just make it easier on everyone and allow me to collect the kid now with no further problems?"

Vernon was speechless. He stumbled back into his home before he gathered the nerve to stutter a command. "Petunia! Get in here!"

Tony took the opportunity to slip by him and weaved his way into the front room, and, seeing that it led to the kitchen, he headed in that direction. He found Harry on the kitchen floor with a damp dish towel wrapped tightly around his hand, cradling it to his chest while he carefully collected the broken pieces of a plate shattered on the floor. He didn't seem to notice Tony until he knelt in front of him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, feeling him tense and jerk his gaze upward. It revealed a swollen cheek, and the burn in Tony's chest ignited.

"Hey, squirt. You don't need to worry about that anymore, alright?"

Harry appeared almost startled and confused at how gentle Tony sounded.

"Your hand, did you—"

"Just burned. It was an accident," Harry muttered. "It's how I dropped the plate…"

"I'll get you to a hospital to check it out. Where are your things?"

He helped Harry up to his feet, careful to not aggravate his hand in the process, and led him to the door that entered the hall. He didn't hear what Harry said at first. "Where?"

"Under there," he whispered, nodding at the cupboard under the stairs.

Tony opened it and had to curb his instinct to swear violently. He shut the door immediately. "Nevermind. We'll get you new belongings."

The Dursleys cut them off at the door. Petunia looked absolutely mortified as she held the document Tony had given them in one hand and gripped papers she must have pulled from somewhere else in the other.

"What are we supposed to do with this information? If we'd known the little _freak_ had somewhere else to go, we would've immediately made arrangements to get rid of him!" she shrieked, flailing the papers. "We were never shown this document when the boy was dropped off on our step like a bottle of milk with these papers and letters! We are _not_ the ones you should be threatening!"

"Then give me the names of who I _should_ be threatening, and I will make sure you both will face the proper consequences for failure to honor a will," Tony said, making sure to keep himself between Harry and the Dursleys. Happy was at the door, holding it open for the pair to exit. "Let's go, squirt."

Tony led the boy out the door without another word. Harry was visibly confused, but he didn't fight or resist the sudden upheaval, even without any context as to what was going on. Tony would explain later, but now was not the time.

Harry looked behind him, seemingly prepared to be pulled back inside at any second, but Happy was barring the Dursleys inside as they walked across the pavement. Opening the back door to the Audi, Tony waited for Harry to climb in before he popped in beside him. Happy soon got into the driver's seat and adjusted his mirrors.

"Where to, Boss?"

"Hospital," Tony said, glancing at Harry's towel-covered hand and bruising cheek. "Get my lawyer on the phone, too. We will definitely need to get this sorted out properly since they did have papers of some kind."

The car started moving then, and he turned his attention to Harry. "You're going to be alright, Harry. I'll explain everything on the way."

Tony helped Harry get the seat belt buckled before putting on his own. Harry kept glancing back at the back window, as if worried someone was following them. Tony pulled the photograph from his pocket and offered it to Harry, catching his attention again. He accepted it, studying it intently before looking back at Tony.

"Y-you found me?" Harry whispered, still in disbelief.

"No," Tony said, "you found me."


	3. Succeed or Fail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note:** Okay, so this chapter got away from me a little bit, oops? I had plans for Tony to actually call Pepper and write that entire scene out because it's going to be fun, but alas it was not meant to be. I might try and squeeze it into the next chapter hopefully if the timeframe works out okay. This was also sort of a hard write for me, but I got through it.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy this semi-dull ish piece. I hope to get the last 2 chapters written in a timely manner so I can share them with you all soon.  
> \----------------------
> 
>  **Legal Disclaimer:** My work is my own creative intelligence and property, but I do not own the original source material it stems from (I wouldn't be writing fanfiction if it was). The opinions and interpretations of characters reflected in my stories may not follow what is portrayed from the source material. Please don't sue me, I'm a stay at home mom.
> 
>  **Word Count:** 5,781 words (per Google Docs)  
> 

* * *

**Succeed or Fail**

Harry sat quietly on the sleek, ebony leather sofa that adorned the large sitting room of Tony's top-floor hotel suite. His hand still tingled slightly under the wrap Happy applied after Harry refused to go to the hospital. The burn paste he slathered over it was cooling, warding off most of the burning prickle that lingered, but his hyper-sensitivity wanted to focus on that feeling right now. It was the only thing that has been relatively constant the past two hours.

He still couldn't fully wrap his mind around what entirely happened earlier that morning. He was making breakfast before heading to church. The only unusual thing was that they were going to a later service because Dudley insisted on staying over at Piers right after they returned from their family vacation and they needed to be picked up, much to Harry's distaste. Otherwise it was a typical Sunday morning routine. He was going to be dropped off at Mrs. Figgs afterward while the Dursleys went to a luncheon with their friends. Thankfully she never mentioned the nightmare that went down on Saturday, and Harry was even more surprised she was willing to take him so soon after it as well, even.

Had Harry not passed out in midst of her severe scolding—not only from fear, but also to stop the shadows from shifting in the hall behind her. Based on how threatening they were behaving, he worried for her own general safety; not sure exactly _what_ they were capable of. It wasn't like he could ask someone about living shadows or anything, especially when he was always one mistake away from being thrown into an asylum while under the Dursleys roof.

But none of that mattered now. Harry was swept away by what he could only regard as a guardian angel, but as the whirlwind of emotions processed through him, he couldn't feel but a little bit panicked as to what was going to happen now. Based on what he was overhearing Tony say to the person on the other side of the mobile, it didn't sound like his newfound freedom would last as long as he'd hoped.

Happy entering the room pulled Harry's attention to him. He was carrying a couple of takeaway bags and seeing them had Harry's stomach betray him with a deep, gurgling hunger. He wrapped his arm around his midsection to stifle the rather loud empty sound, knowing that it was not only inappropriate, but instinctively feared a hard swat to the back of the head because the food wasn't necessarily for him despite the quantity. Despite Mrs. Figg being loads kinder than the Dursleys ever were to him, she still vaguely told them when they picked him up Saturday night he had acted up on her, resulting in no supper—he never did eat the packed lunch, either.

It was his own fault, he knew, running off and breaking into a private event like he did. It was the lightest punishment he gladly took in silence in its wake, and would forever be in Mrs. Figg's debt for not entirely blowing the whistle on him. He knew that she knew what she was doing, after all, but going from three small but steady unappetizing meals for a solid week to nothing would definitely mess with him, and it was.

Happy must have heard the unpleasant noise because he promptly walked over and sat down on the couch next to Harry. He tried to make himself as small as possible, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them to further stifle the gnawing growl. He was usually better at hiding this.

"You hungry, kid?" Happy asked, placing the bag on the coffee table in front of him before proceeding to pull out a plastic container that had pancakes in it with a pack of syrup, eggs, and bacon strips inside.

Harry bit his lip slightly, honing in on the food and the aroma it emitted. Swallowing hard, he pushed his back further into the cushions to try and make himself smaller.

Happy pushed it in front of him, popping the clear lid open and placing the plastic utensils beside it. "I got this for you. You like pancakes? I got sandwiches if not."

"Y-yes," he half-whispered, releasing his legs so he could lean forward and inspect the food placed in front of him. "Pancakes a-are fine."

He wasn't sure where all his courage had gone now. Yesterday it felt like he had an unlimited supply of the stuff, but today he was far from it. Maybe it was because of the lingering fear that he wouldn't be able to stay with Tony after all, and based on the somewhat heated exchange going on in the bedroom, this seemed like it was a possibility. The hunger seemed to overwhelm these thoughts now, having food presented to him so openly made him almost nauseous, but declining it would come off as rude.

"Thank you, sir," Harry muttered, grabbing the fork and knife laid down beside it. At least if he did need to get sick later it wouldn't be on an empty stomach.

"No problem. And you can call me Happy," Happy said. He let out an audible breath before continuing, "I'm sorry about yesterday. My job—well, it was no excuse for it."

Harry didn't know what to say to that, but he gave a slight nod in acknowledgement. If the bodyguard was apologizing and offering him food, then Harry wasn't going to reject such an apology because of how he was treated yesterday by him. In truth, Happy wasn't aggressive or handled him roughly, he just drew very blunt, mostly true, conclusions.

It didn't take him long to clear the three pancakes and portion of eggs and bacon, feeling ravenous despite having a somewhat proper eating schedule from being with Mrs. Figg for the last week. Her portions were still small; being an older, single lady had her accustomed to preparing single meals, so her making extra of something meant only a half portion more was added that she usually would store for a future meal.

Harry noticed that Happy seemed to try and hide the fact he was staring at him, averting his gaze in a quick, jerking manner when he looked over at him. This made him even more self-conscious of how fast he devoured the sweet breakfast in front of him. He wasn't used to an audience, either, often left alone at the table for his meals.

"If you're still hungry, help yourself." Happy gestured to the bag where he had pulled a sandwich from and still held in hand.

"Thank you." Eating more would only make him feel sicker, and the sweetness of the syrup was already making him feel a little queasy.

He gathered the plastic tray and utensils, standing up, and moved around the table before pausing. He scanned the room for a rubbish or recycle bin. The tray's sharp edge slipped in his hold and jabbed into his injured hand, causing him to flinch slightly.

"You alright?"

"Y-yeah." Harry waved his wrapped hand in the air some, trying to ease the sting while visibly showing he was fine.

Happy got up and took the tray from him. "Take it easy. Don't worry about this."

"Okay."

Harry went back to the couch and sat back down. Not sure what else to do, he took in the room, but ultimately his eyes landed back on the photo of his parents Tony gave him in the car. He had placed it on the end table beside him, and now he couldn't help but smile at it, seeing how happy everyone was with each other and how loved they all were. It left a faint warmth in his chest.

Tony flipped his phone closed, making its snap echo in the large empty space. It pulled Harry's attention to him, a strange sense of dread settling in his gut.

"I'm not going to be able to stay, am I?" Harry blurted, unable to contain that horrible feeling of having to leave and almost regretted the straightforward question.

He watched as Tony moved around the coffee table and sat down next to him in the space Happy vacated. Harry focused on his hairline as a sign of respect, unable to muster up the courage to completely meet Tony's eyes.

"Not if I can help it," Tony assured. He reached for the bag and pulled a sandwich from it. "Did you eat yet?"

Harry gave a nod of his head. "Pancakes, eggs, and bacon."

"Lucky. I love pancakes. Better than these things by far." Tony held up the unwrapped breakfast sandwich that looked like two small pancakes holding a slice of cheese and two strips of bacon in-between them. "I'd pass on the egg, though. Your hand doing better?"

Harry's lips twitched slightly, not sure how to process such positive attention and concern, but it made it easy to talk to Tony. Comfortable, even, and answering questions didn't feel forced or premeditated. He instinctively slid his fingers across his still-tender cheek where Petunia slapped him before raising his bandaged hand up. "It isn't tingling anymore."

"I'm glad."

Tony eyed him for a long moment, having Harry fidget with the hem of the overstretched, too-large, once colored ebony t-shirt (now an ashy grey) he hadn't had the chance to change out of that morning. It was strangely one of his favorites; the material was softer than the rest and made it easy to sleep in. The oversized matching pajama bottoms were made of the same material but hung almost humorously off his small frame. Despite both their sizes, Harry liked the extra room because it was like a second blanket he could tuck himself into on the colder nights when the corridor got drafty.

"I know we just got here, but I was wondering if you're up to go out for a few things?" Tony asked, seeming to try and gauge Harry's reaction. "Some new clothes, maybe find a barber that can properly tend to your hair type? Have a little you pampering?"

Harry wasn't sure how he was supposed to reply to such a request. The day had barely started and he was already exhausted. He still hadn't fully processed what Tony told him in the car, unable to believe that he was to be his real legal guardian. Harry really hoped it was true because Tony and Happy had been so kind to him. Even the shaky shadows weren't stirring like they always seemed to do before. Though he hardly knew the man, he already felt like he could undoubtedly trust him because of these things alone. Tony had known his parents for three entire years and spoke nothing but amazing things about them the entire hour drive. Because of this, Harry didn't want to disappoint him and say no, but he didn't know anything about clothes shopping or hair care at all to prepare for or what to expect out of it.

"I-I can manage I think," Harry said, nodding to reinforce his answer even though Tony looked as tired as he felt.

He just hoped his nervousness and uncertainty about it didn't show.

Happy drove them to a very sophisticated looking storefront that donned children and baby mannequins in their bay windows. Harry had seen the store several times before, even remembering that he had to sit on the bench just inside to wait while Dudley was being tailored for a suit for some special occasion Harry wasn't allowed to attend.

Tony got out before Harry could fully close his mouth, unsure of what to make of the rather high-end store. He had never gone clothes shopping for himself before, so having such a fancy place be their first choice was jarring.

The door opened and he slowly climbed out of the Audi, pushing his damaged glasses up his nose.

"Happy picked it, seems like a reasonable place, yeah?" Tony said, glancing across the pavement at the storefront.

"Okay." That wasn't the right answer.

Harry followed Tony in and was immediately overwhelmed by how nice everything looked and that he wasn't there for Dudley. He was there for himself and he was wearing oversized thread-bare pyjamas and old slip on shoes. Luckily Tony picked up on his mental shutdown, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder and giving it a light squeeze while getting the attention of one of the floor staff to assist them. Harry watched over the rims of his glasses as the young lady moved across the room toward them. It was easier for him to watch the fuzzied outlines of people, it helped him avoid noticing too many things about them and helped mask their faces so he couldn't process facial features and their reactions.

"We need to order a suit, specially tailored, medium grey with light blue pinstripes. A few sets of everyday casual wear, and a few sets of pyjamas, please." Tony spoke so confidently. Harry hoped he could do that someday.

"Of course. We have everything you need available for the child." The woman paused for a moment, looking at Harry, but he was too busy staring at the bench he felt he should be sitting on to pay attention to her. "If you'd like to follow me, I can have my colleague assist you while I take him to the back for measuring."

When the woman placed a hand on his back, Harry bristled at the contact. She was applying pressure on him now, prompting him to follow her lead. There was a long plastic looking piece of ribbon wrapped around one of her hands that Harry became wary of, and she had a strange, reserved smile on her face.

He didn't want to follow this person, so he clamped his feet firmly in place, focusing on Tony. For some unknown reason Harry couldn't make himself move toward him. Quickly becoming hyper aware of his environment and all of the clean proper clothing that he was supposed to accept as his own became frightening and overwhelming. He _liked_ the sweats- _cum_ -pyjamas he was currently wearing. They were soft and comfortable and a shade easily overlooked and unnoticeable to most, making him virtually invisible in the dull grey-black outfit. The thought of wearing something other than worn out, overstretched, faded-colored clothes sent him into a panic and he now wished he could have had a moment to grab the bag he used as a dresser before leaving Privet Drive.

He felt his mouth open, trying to call out to Tony who was distracted by the other person, but his throat seemed to close up. Reaching for him now, he tried to get his feet to move, but when he noticed the shadows start to pull from the crevasse of the otherwise well-lit store and pool under him, he quickly found himself giving into the darkness that outlined his vision.

**.oOo.**

Tony screwed up already and he only had Harry for less than four hours. He cursed under his breath while quietly scolding himself. In his haste to help the kid he didn't take his feelings fully into consideration at all. He pushed Harry to quickly along in an attempt to try and make everything better for him when instead Tony was trying to correct his own guilt about the situation. His mind was running a mile a second, eager to get everything worked out and corrected as soon as physically possible, and it all backfired.

They were back at the hotel now and Harry still hadn't woken up from him passing out in the store. Tony leaned against the door frame, peering in at the sleeping boy laying limpy on the too-large bed for his too-small frame, hoping that he would stir at any moment. Thankfully he didn't hit his head or sustain any injury at the store when he passed, though the strange pool of darkness that he swore caught him had something to do about it. Tony had seen some odd things in his life, and so far what he observed at the kids clothing store reached the top of that list. Harry having some kind of mutation was the last thing he was going to worry over right now, it wasn't going to change anything.

A cough escaped him and he turned away while attempting to suppress it. It reminded him of the sole purpose of why he ended up in London on the fly, much to Pepper's protest and confusion as to why such a small event was suddenly so important to him. The convention held yesterday was focused on medical-related sciences, something he recently directed his company to put more focus on than it already was for several reasons. SI took a hit no longer producing weapons, but it wasn't anything Tony was concerned about, not after how unstable and shady the weapons industry really was despite his company's best efforts, he did get a first-hand look at that after all. The medical field held a lot of promise regardless.

Tony pulled a small device from his pocket then, and at a glance most would assume it was a blood sugar tester. It was actually a SI prototype Tony was developing to quickly test blood toxicity levels much faster than what was already available. With some tweaking, it measured exactly what he needed it to read, and he ironically dubbed it the Heavy Metal Monitor—or HMM. The name was a work in progress.

Pressing his finger on the designated pad, the twitch of his eye was the only reaction he had when it pricked him. Watching the digital screen appear with a .8% was a slight concern, going up .3% since before he left for Little Whinging. The adrenaline induced from the cluster of emotions of the morning must've accelerated it, which meant he'd have to take extra precautions to keep his stress levels low.

He almost laughed at that thought, when wasn't he stressing about something these days? Especially since the discovery that his ARC reactor decided to really start poisoning him a few days ago. The small science convention had changed his life in a way he wasn't prepared for, but once he stifled the shock after meeting Harry, he managed to find a few small but promising leads and breakthroughs for similar things to his current predicament. Now he had an even bigger reason to find a solution to this otherwise horrible setback in the ARC design that was supposed to keep him alive. There was no way he was going to allow Harry to go back to those relatives of his.

The incident at the store prompted Tony to have Happy fetch Harry's meager belongings even though he ordered several outfits, sleepwear, and even a semi-formal shirt and slacks to replace the suit he intended to get. He could only hope that they were the right size, since at first glance Harry looked like a five or six year old. He pondered pushing back the court date he pushed for to better prepare Harry for such a feat, arguing with his lawyer to get it set for Wednesday—three days away. Though at the same time the thought of just getting it done like ripping off a band aid would be the best course of action in the long run. Tony already had to prepare for Pepper roasting him for everything going on, a phone call he has been meaning to make and knew it would be better if he called her first. If everything panned out well, getting his extremely competent lawyer to work with not one, but two of Britons own extremely competent lawyers that specializes in these cases to escalate his would most likely end having more people upset with him if he canceled now.

Best if he could avoid that at all possible.

This left the only option to try and prep Harry for the whirlwind about to take place. Tony needed to get back to California for so many reasons, but the one that found itself to the top of the list was to get Harry secured in a proper home environment as soon as possible, and of course the next step was to figure out a way to stop dying. That one was a bigger, more complicated issue to handle so he was glad it dropped a peg for now.

Happy returned and Harry still was out, but Tony decided to step away for just a moment to speak with him.

"That's it?"

He scanned the worn-out duffle bag in Happy's hand before shifting his gaze over to a fancy paper bag in his other.

"According to them, yes," Happy said, setting the bag down near the room Harry was in. "I took the liberty in getting what was in there washed. I picked up his own bedding, though. The blanket was a literal rag and he didn't seem to have a pillow so… There's a throw blanket and travel pillow in here for him. Kids like yellow, right?" he lifted the bag up as he spoke.

"You're guess is as good as mine." Tony took the bag from him and peeked in, seeing a soft, bright lemon yellow blanket looking back. "You're a gem, Happy. Thanks."

Happy gave a silent nod of acceptance. "Anything else I can do for you, Boss?"

"Not at the moment. Thanks again."

Tony turned back to the bedroom as Happy excused himself, grabbing the duffel bag before entering. He hoped Harry would wake up soon and started running worse-case scenarios through his head on if or when he should call the paramedics. Grabbing another medical prototype from his pocket, he powered it on, punched in a couple digits on the touch pad, then held it over Harry's still form for a few seconds, watching the blue hue blanket over him before it vanished. A quiet chime was made in the other room, indicating an email was sent with the results. With a sigh, Tony pulled the knit blanket Happy got Harry out of the bag and unfolded it, taking a moment to take in it's ridiculously soft texture and vibrant lemon yellow color even in the dim room. He checked the tag to see it was made of merino sheep wool, finding its quality almost startling.

Carefully, Tony partially draped the blanket over Harry's waist before brushing a light hand over the mess of hair before stepping back. Harry had shifted some, causing Tony to catch his breath as he watched for a sign of him waking. Once he settled, Tony released his held breath and grabbed the matching pillow from the bag and placed it on top of the white pillow just above Harry's head. He checked his watch, seeing it was about eleven, meaning it was only three in Malibu, so he had some time before he absolutely had to call Pepper and fill her in on the change of plans.

Deciding that hovering over the kid would not only be weird, it would be counter-productive. Though he didn't want Harry to panic waking up alone in the room, Tony quickly left to grab his laptop and move one of the dining table chairs to the hall. Pressing his feet against the wall opposite him, he carefully leaned back to tip the chair back enough to rest the back against the wall on two legs. Satisfied with the balance, Tony placed the laptop on his lap and checked the email that contained Harry's vitals. Everything seemed okay considering, but knowing how the courts worked, and anticipating the one he was about to face, having some sort of medical records will be useful. He compared it to the one he took of Harry shortly after they got in the car, as well as photos of his injuries before patching him up, and saw a lot of improvement, but still slightly concerning. Having every scrap of evidence he could come up with to help his case was vital, so Tony would need to take regular scans of Harry for comparison and try to scrape together any other old medical records to show the differences between them.

An hour flashed by and his phone rang, snapping Tony out of his research hole to check to see who it was. It was Jason Hale, his most favourite person at the moment below Harry. Moving away from the bedroom door—Harry still hadn't woken up yet—he answered it promptly

"Lay it on me, Night Owl."

" _Well, you got your date for Wednesday,"_ the lawyer on the other end said. " _They seemed very interested in this case. It seems you are capable of attracting positive attention from authorities after all."_

"Well, I am a joy to work with, so I'm told," Tony said. "You've definitely earned yourself a pot of coffee."

" _Yeah, well I'm going to need it for tomorr—today. It's Sunday already? Gez. Anyway, I'm going to be gathering my things and flying your way at some point today to prep. I've scheduled a meeting on Monday to meet with the Brits who will be presented with your case."_

Tony checked his watch. He saw that it was noon now, meaning it was about four in the morning where his night owl lawyer was back in California. He didn't earn the nickname for nothing. "Great work, as always, Night Owl. I'll leave ya to burn that double-ended candle, just make sure you wedge a nap in somewhere. I'll need you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for Wednesday."

" _Will do,"_ Jason, muttering under his breath a moment. " _There is some bad news, unfortunately."_

"I figured," Tony replied, creeping down the hall to peek in at Harry. "There is never good news without the bad, otherwise it is just news."

" _Your case isn't going to be easy. This kid practically doesn't exist in the system, and based on what you've told and given me, there's no evidence of his parents, either. Death certificates, nothing,"_ Jason rattled off while the sound of papers scattering around. " _And this Will is going to be scrutinized for its legitimacy from their end, so to avoid the court rescheduling I'll get that sent to the right people pronto."_

"Well, I didn't say this was going to be easy, either," Tony deadpanned. "It's why I hired you because you help work the miracles I need on my behalf."

" _And a miracle this will need,"_ Jason said with a chuckle. " _I'll ring you when I touchdown. I expect First Class service once I'm there."_

"I'll be sure the limo comes with an espresso machine. Toodles for now." Tony flipped the phone closed and glanced in at Harry again, who was starting to stir more frequently now.

He entered the room when Harry started to sit up, trying to not startle him as he did so. "Hey, kiddo."

Harry looked his way before automatically reaching for the nightstand where his battered glasses were. Tony added yet another mental note to the growing list of things he will need to get checked out once Harry was more securely his. Medical was a finicky thing like that and wasn't surprised that Harry refused to go to the hospital for his hand. He was never big on them himself.

"You alright?" Tony prompted, slowly sitting on the foot of the bed. "Feeling okay?"

"I think so…" Harry swallowed hard, looking everywhere but at Tony. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to cause a scene. I—"

"Hey, hey it's alright. Really," Tony said, instinctively reaching out to Harry and placing a hand on his shoulder. "I am the only one who should be sorry here."

The response had Harry catch his stammering with the sharp intake of his breath. His eyes widened some, and Tony focused on the tip of his nose as he continued, finding the reaction nearly heartbreaking. He needed to make sure that Harry knew it was not his fault.

"I pushed you to fast too soon, and I am sorry," Tony reaffirmed, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze to reinforce his words. "But I can assure you that it will never happen again, okay?"

A few very quiet beats went by before Harry nodded in understanding, seeming to be at a loss for words.

"Okay, good." Tony patted Harry's shoulder before letting it fall into his lap where it tapped on the end of his knee. "Let's...Let's take the rest of the day off, yeah? I want us to take our time to get better acquainted and comfortable with each other. Watch a movie, have some lunch. You can ask me all the questions I'm sure you still have racing through your head and I'll do my best to answer them. That sound alright with you?"

Harry blinked a couple of times before giving a hesitant nod. Tony didn't pressure him to give any verbal answers, they weren't required, and he didn't mind doing all of the talking right now anyway. He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking a moment.

"Happy got your things. They're in the bag and have been cleaned." Tony waved to the duffle bag before gesturing to the door across the room. "The bathroom is there if you want to use it. Take your time and all, and when you're ready, I'll be in the kitchen digging out some food."

Harry pulled his attention away from Tony to look down at the tattered bag. Tony watched as he seemed to reach for the blanket without much thought before he froze, gripping the lemon yellow blanket in his hand before releasing it as if it burned him.

"That's yours. The blanket and that pillow. If you want them, that is," Tony rambled, not sure how Harry would handle receiving a gift. It clearly wasn't a normal thing in his old life. "Yellow is pretty neat, I think."

"I like yellow," Harry half-whispered, reaching for the blanket again to take in its softness properly. "Thank you."

Tony got up then, not wanting to further intrude. "Well, the popcorn won't pop itself. Take your time, 'kay? I'll be in the other room if you need me."

"Okay," Harry said, a ghost of a smile on his face.

Tony left the bedroom door open before moving to the kitchen with his laptop. Getting some music playing at a modest level from the laptop just in case Harry called for him, Tony proceeded to switch between handling his makeshift snack and lunch tray, to checking emails, and writing a fleeting note down here or there for new ideas. JARVIS had sent him a promising short-term remedy to help ward off the poisoning side-effects of the ARC: liquid chlorophyll. Oddly enough it wasn't one of the things he thought of first, which frightened him because it was such a straightforward solution. JARVIS was rather kind about the obvious discovery in the email, stating he had a lot of other important things on his mind to miss something like this. At this rate he will give anything a shot at least once, and if becoming part-plant is the way to do it, he'll have some explaining to do as always, but he'll be alive to tell it… at least for now.

Harry must have slipped in while his back was turned because when Tony turned back around with a finished sandwich on a plate, he nearly jumped when he saw the damp mop of jet black hair clinging to Harry's forehead. Tony promptly muted his laptop and sat the plate down in front of Harry who was busy cleaning his glasses with the hem of his oversized, washed out blue shirt.

"It's a club sandwich. Well, sort of. Haven't cut it all fancy yet, but it has ham, bacon, tomato, lettuce, mayo, and mustard. Very lightly toasted the bread to give it some crunch," Tony said, grabbing some glasses from the cupboard. "If that isn't something appeasing, just say the word, and I'll see what I can find for ya."

Tony gestured to the tray that had a large bowl of fresh popcorn next to an assortment of fruit, crackers, cheese, and sliced meats. It looked quite fancy if the colored gummy worms and bears piled into another bowl beside the popcorn wasn't there.

"I like sandwiches. Thank you."

It was obvious Harry had never been given many choices before because he quietly pulled the plate toward him without a word and took the tomato off and sat it on the plate. He looked at Tony for a moment, seeming to wait for some sort of reaction, before he picked up the rather large sandwich in his small hands. Tony felt his heart break just a bit at the sight. He grabbed a clean knife from nearby and waved his hand in front of Harry to grab his attention.

"Here, let me…"

Harry promptly dropped the sandwich and Tony cut it into the small quarter-sized pieces it was intended to be before giving it back. Harry picked up one of the pieces, visibly relaxing at the more manageable size.

After Tony watched him practically devour the sandwich, he gestured for him to move to the couch that faced a wall-mounted TV. He offered the remote to Harry, popping some popcorn into his mouth.

"All yours. Pick whatever you want." That didn't sound quite right. "PG-13—er, whatever they rate kid-friendly things. I'm down for anything fun."

Harry hesitantly took the remote and flicked the TV on. The movie the channel was already set to had the title flash by too quickly for Tony to register, but it had the word grail in it.

"Dudley—my cousin—watches this all the time," Harry said barely above a whisper. "He makes it seem so funny because I hear him laugh all the time from under…" He trailed off. "But he's quite...simple minded, so he finds a lot of stuff funny."

Harry paused again, prompting Tony to look back at him to make sure he was alright. Talking about family that was abusive was difficult, he knew that first hand, and there was always someone on his staff throwing it in his face at some point in his life.

"Is it ok to watch?"

Tony looked back as the opening credits melded into a foggy scene with the sound of a running horse. When two people came into view, he saw that one of them was clapping two halves of a coconut together to replicate the horses hooves. He chuckled slightly at this and reached for the popcorn bowl to place between them.

"I don't see why not."


	4. Make or Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note:** [Insert some excuse or another for this being late here].
> 
> Stay safe. Be kind to each other.
> 
> Enjoy.  
> \----------------------  
>  **Legal Disclaimer:** My work is my own creative intelligence and property, but I do not own the original source material it stems from (I wouldn't be writing fanfiction if it was). The opinions and interpretations of characters reflected in my stories may not follow what is portrayed from the source material. Please don't sue me, I'm a stay at home mom.
> 
>  **Word Count:** 6,777 words (per Google Docs)

* * *

**Make or Break**

_ Ringing is heard through the phone, followed by an answering tick. _

Pepper: Hello?

Tony: Pep! Good morning! How is my favorite assistant fairing without me?

Pepper: Tony…

Tony: Don't worry about your breakfast, it's already on its way to your office with your favorite coffee order and bagel with cream cheese… er... poppyseed muffin...?

Pepper:  _ A slow exhale is heard.  _ What did you do?

Tony: What? Nothing! Can't I simply appreciate you from afar?

Pepper: It's six forty-five on a Sunday morning...

Tony: Yeah?

Pepper: My day off.

Tony: Okay.

Pepper: I'm getting ready for mass...

Tony: Yes, right. The Sabbath. I, uh…

Pepper: Tony...

Tony: Hmm?

Pepper: What did you do?

Tony: Well, I didn't want you to worry, but I'm postponing my flight home for a couple of days is all.

Pepper: Until when, exactly? 

Tony: Mm… the end of the week.

Pepper: Tony, you are aware you want this expo to launch in a few months—

Tony: Yes, that's right—

Pepper: —and I can't plan everything and send invites without you approving and signing off on everything.—

Tony: I know—

Pepper: —We are behind enough as is and I'd really appreciate it if you didn't extend this side trip to appease your wild whims. What is it this time? Because I am pretty sure it isn't about the medical science division you chased overseas to attend last minute. 

Tony: That isn't fair, I told you—

Pepper: —It will be good for the company to branch out and invest on smaller research facilities. Yes, I know, and I think it is great, but what is keeping you from coming home exactly? Because I really need the CEO here.

Tony: Well… funny story, actually. One I'm sure you have no time to hear and I have no time to share since I need to go pickup my lawyer—

Pepper:  _ A huffy breath escapes.  _ You have Jason and Justice involved? Tony… what did you do? 

Tony: I, uh… I'm in the process of… well, you'll never believe it—

Pepper: Tony, what did you  _ do?  _ l'll call Happy if I need to—

Tony: No need to do that.  _ A long pause follows.  _ I'm in the process of, uh, of becoming the legal guardian of my godson.

Pepper:  _ A sharp intake of breath is made. _

Tony: Yeah… it, uh… wasn't what I thought I'd be doing in the aftermath, either. I'm trying to hurry it along… 

Pepper: Tony…

Tony: But I could probably drown in the paperwork and red tape that has sprung out of nowhere because of it…

Pepper: You have a godchild? How did—

Tony: Wish I could answer that. Again, long story. You have mass, I got the never-ending mountain of papers to trudge through…

Pepper: I—I don't know what to say…

Tony: JARVIS has everything I know about it available. He’ll provide anything you want to know and update as things are updated, but I gotta go before the Hales bury me in old coffee grounds for not getting this done before their arrival. I wouldn't put it past them, either. I'll explain everything as soon as I am able, but until then… I'll see you by the weekend, okay?

Pepper: Okay…  _ A brief silence settles, soon followed by a deep breath and slow exhale.  _ Tony?

Tony: Hmm?

Pepper: Be careful, okay? If you need anything or want my help just… just ask and I'll be there.

Tony: Appreciate it, Pep. But I need you holding down the fort there.

Pepper: Does James know yet?

Tony: No… But he's next… I didn't want you to worry. 

Pepper: Okay. I'll call later, and you better answer.

Tony: Of course. 

_ Click... _

* * *

Harry stood in front of the mirror that doubled as the closet's sliding door in the bedroom. He almost didn't recognize himself in the reflection looking back had it not been for his own vibrant green eyes contrasting against the lavender button-up dress shirt Tony bought him. It was a surprise that he bothered to buy him any clothes after he blacked out in the middle of the store. Had he done that with his relatives, they’d call him an embarrassment (among other things) before locking him in the closet as punishment. Thankfully, when he came to, Tony was anything but embarrassed or upset with him, it was quite the opposite, actually. It was an incident Harry hoped will never happen again, but it also wasn't something he couldn’t really control, either.

Taking a deep breath, Harry blinked a couple of times and took in his appearance. It was strange wearing things that fit him. It made him feel less small, and the slacks and shirt looked nice, almost too nice, and were easily the nicest set of clothes he'd ever owned. Even his church clothes weren't this fancy.

The barber that came that morning managed to tend to the lack of proper care his hair had endured for so long. It was easier to start fresh and practice proper care from there, he said, and Harry agreed after a moment of hesitation. It now looked like a very small, loosely curled afro, it wasn't in his eyes anymore, and he actually liked how it turned out unlike how his aunt used to crudely cut it, only to have it back to the way it was the following morning. His brown skin even appeared healthier already, it was less ashen and dry at least, whether because there weren't layers of invisible sweat and dirt built up on it or because his body was grateful for an entire day’s worth of steady meals was debatable.

It was only Monday, after all, so seeing such a physical improvement was almost startling, even for himself.

But Harry quickly learned why Monday's were supposed to be horrible. Tony explained to him over breakfast earlier that morning that they were going to have to meet with some very important people today who were supposedly going to help Tony keep him. 

Somehow he knew that it wasn't going to be as easy as he hoped, but Harry knew that he would have to be honest with everyone he was about to encounter in order to help him stay with Tony. That meant that he was going to reveal some very unpleasant things about the Dursleys, and he knew that they were  _ not _ going to be happy about it should they find out, either. He could only hope that the shadows would behave because they responded based on how he felt, he deduced, and it was going to be difficult to keep his emotions—and by extension the shadows—in control.

The knock on the door pulled his attention back to the mirror where he watched the door open behind him. Tony ducked his head in, smiling lightly at him.

"You ready, squirt?"

Harry noticed the lavender shirt Tony also wore tucked into his black slacks as he came further into the room. Harry gestured between them. "We match."

Tony looked at his shirt briefly before giving Harry a gentle smirk. "A good match, I hope?"

He gave a hesitant nod, though he wondered why Tony wasn't wearing a suit for something important like this. It reminded Harry what was about to happen and a tightness started to settle in his chest. Tony's hand touching his shoulder grounded him, and Harry found himself looking up from his shoes to see Tony kneeling beside him.

"You're going to be alright, okay? I'll be right there the entire time. If things are getting to be too much, we will leave. Deal?"

Harry swallowed hard and nodded, knowing that he meant it.

They both left the suite together, Happy followed close behind them as they headed for the private conference room Tony rented from the hotel to hold the meeting. Harry didn't have much experience with people in suits, he was often sent outside to do yard work after he prepped the tea whenever his uncle’s coworkers came over. As they waited for the elevator, Harry's mind raced, wondering what they were going to ask or were going to need from him to decide his fate. What if the Dursleys were there, too? Tony wouldn't allow them to be within sight distance of him, if so. He said so himself. Yet the mere thought of seeing them again… he didn't know how he'd respond.

The over-polished steel doors opened with a ping to the ground floor and the small group moved across the lobby to the proper wing. A young woman in tall, pointed shoes and a sleek, black skirt suit greeted them, and the rhythmic tapping of her shoes on the hard floor pulled Harry into an odd trance as he listened to them intently. It was comforting almost, the consistent  _ ta-tap _ of each step he found himself counting and soon anticipating each one. When the sound was immediately silenced by the heavy carpet of the room they were led into, it threw Harry into a tailspin and forced him to pull himself back to reality. 

There was a large oval table in the center of the room with black leather-bound swivel chairs lining all around it. The smell of fresh brewed coffee filled the room, drawing Harry over to the small counter in the corner where a pair of stainless steel contraptions sat next to a basket of mixed teas, sweeteners, and cream. On the end had fresh muffins, bagels, and jammy dodgers placed alongside some white plates, and despite the fact that Harry had eaten a fair amount of pancakes topped with fruit thirty minutes ago, his stomach growled and twisted at the same time at the sight of them. Tony shifted over to the counter and grabbed a mug to dispense the coffee into. He signed him over to grab some tea, and Harry obliged after Tony got the hot water for him. He went with the peppermint and chamomile tea blend, knowing that the calming results would be useful for the situation. The adrenaline would counter the sleepiness effect. 

The woman quietly took her leave, giving them the chance to settle in. Harry picked a spot that allowed him to face the floor to ceiling windows overlooking a well manicured garden on the other side. Everything had a blue hue to it from the window treatment, giving the garden an enchanting feel. It was relaxing and made the otherwise stuffy, almost cramped, room not as claustrophobic. 

Happy was busy organizing files with paperwork on the table for Tony as he sipped at his coffee. Harry palmed the mug of tea in his hand slowly, letting his mind focus on the aroma while trying to not let his mind wander too much. He knew that a lot of people would find it crazy to trust a stranger so instantaneously upon meeting them, but for Harry, it was the only thing that made sense in his short life. It was going to be quite difficult to explain this, he knew, and he was going to have to trust that these adults will somehow understand.

The door opening caught Harry’s attention, and a lovely person sharply dressed in a bold red and black pinstripe trouser suit entered. Their shoes were a glossy black that showed off light pink painted toenails, matching their short fingernails carrying a black briefcase. Their hair was a short afro like his, but had two thin lines that varied in length etched in the sides where it was sheared closer to the scalp, and they had a strong, squared jawline and flawless dark skin. The appearance screamed female to Harry at first, but something told him that he was wrong in assuming this.

Tony stood, but Harry didn’t share the same courtesy, instead he curled himself around his tea, observing with his peripherals as his nerves started to go into overdrive.

“I’m only blessed to have one of you, I see,” Tony said, giving the new arrival a brief handshake.

“Please, we all know I’m the better J in the firm, Tones,” they said, their tone a mix of elegance and strength.

Harry discreetly watched as Tony led them to the tables opposite side, pulling a chair out for them. The clap of the sleek suitcase pulled Harry’s gaze up more, catching the warm hazel eyes that rested on him.

“This is Justice,” Tony introduced, now standing beside Harry. His presence helped Harry release the unknown tension he held in his back and shoulders. “My trusty lawyer and the better half of J&J Law.”

“Nice to meet you,” Harry said, an automatic, monotonous tone lacing his words. He couldn’t help but resort to it, being conditioned to not exist around his uncle’s businessmen did that to people.

No matter, if Tony trusted this person, then so will he. “You’re going to help me keep Tony?”

Justice smiled, the clear gloss on their lips shimmered at the movement. They leaned forward over the table as if to tell a secret.

“You can bet on it.”

Harry felt a bit better at the reassurance, but it wasn’t quite enough to quell the doubt that sat in the pit of his stomach. He sat back in his seat as Justice jumped right into the thick of what was going to happen. Even more papers soon were spread across the table and Harry found himself zoning out, not really wanting to listen in on his parents mysterious deaths (or disappearances, as Justice inferred since there was a lack of any public evidence for it). It made him regret eating the overly doused syrupy pancakes earlier as his stomach twisted with the flicker of thought that his parents might’ve abandoned him. He didn’t want to believe a lick of what his aunt and uncle had told him, however, it just simply couldn’t be true. Right now, he wasn’t sure what to believe anymore.

“The Dursley’s had papers, they showed them to me, rather reluctantly of course,” he heard Tony say, pulling his thoughts back to the present.

“I suppose you didn’t actually look at them, did you?” Justice questioned as they placed another slip of paper on top of another.

“Well, no. I was more focused on getting Harry out of there as peacefully as possible. Though, with how they reacted to seeing the will, I am pretty sure whatever they had wasn’t legitimate.” 

“No matter, their lawyer will have them and they’ll be looked into with everything else. What you do have is hard copies of the will, a birth certificate, and a copy of your godparent slash guardianship papers, so you’ve got a good running so far,” Justice affirmed, sweeping a hand over the documents as they were mentioned. “The only thing that may have you hit a snag is his parents status. The last thing I found in regards to them were some college school records, which, according to you, was—”

“The last time I saw them, yeah…” Tony said barely above a whisper.

Harry fidgeted in his seat, not comfortable with the conversation, but he knew he had to endure it for the sake of his well being. If he had it his way, he’d never have to see his aunt and uncle ever again, but the likelihood of them showing up at some point this week was inevitable.

When the doors opened again, Tony silently signaled for Harry to stand, which he did, and faced the doorway as more people in sleek fancy outfits entered. He felt Tony’s hand hover against his back as the two women introduced themselves.

“Good morning, Dr. Stark. I’m Claudia Zabini,” one of the women greeted. Her ash grey blazer, skirt, and cerulean blue blouse contrasted beautifully with her dark skin.

“And my name is Andromeda Tonks,” the other woman said.

The dark ringlets that made up her hair were neatly pulled back and secured in a hairclip, showing off her sharp features on her pale face. Her eyes were gentle, however, taking away some of the otherwise fierce looking appearance. The black skirt and blazer was matched with a burgundy blouse. Harry couldn’t help but admire how they both looked so professional and pretty yet intimidating all at the same time. 

“Parent’s astronomers?” Tony asked as he shook the women’s hands.

“You could say that,” she replied kindly.

The two moved around the table to shake hands with Justice before they sat down across from Harry and Tony. Everyone soon settled into their seats and Harry could feel their eyes scanning him. He tucked his chin further to his chest and started gripping his hands together in his lap, allowing his nails to dig into his palms. Harry wasn’t sure how much more he could take of these adult encounters, he’d much rather be back in the room watching the telly or reading something than be here, but he knew he had to talk to these people, it was integral and important. It was going to be a long day.

“My colleague and I are from the Department for Education. We are here to evaluate your case and potentially aid in building it with you,” Mrs. Zabini said, focusing on Tony and Justice. "We were called yesterday in regards to a potential—" her dark eyes slid over to Harry briefly, "—alarming incident that occured."

"That seems promising," Tony stated, tapping a finger rapidly on the table. "Though I don't recall reporting anything."

Harry was drawn to Tony's finger tapping, no one seemed to notice it despite the quiet tick that came from the nail making contact with the glass top. Harry relaxed his own grip some at this, seeing that Tony also needed some kind of stimulating motion comforted him, so he found himself also tapping on the leather arm of his chair, matching the rhythm to Tony's. Harry tried to politely ignore the conversation about what happened the morning before, or every single day that led up to it that he retained since he could remember, but it was hard. He knew what the Department for Education did, and always secretly hoped they would spontaneously appear at the Dursley’s home one day and take him away, but now that they were there, he wasn’t sure what to expect.

"Considering that you found the need to pull Mr. Potter out of Privet Drive had us decide we needed to consult with him and you first before investigating the Dursleys," Mrs. Tonks explained, "Normally this is done in reverse, but we found this to be a special and rare case. If you and Mr. Potter—"

"Harry…"

The two women looked his way at Harry's request. 

"Please, just Harry."

"My apologies," Mrs. Tonks said with a nod, "Harry."

"We will need to interview you, if this is alright with you, Harry? We will do our best to get through it quickly, but we will also need you to answer all of our questions as best as you can," Mrs. Zabini said, pulling out a decent stack of papers from her briefcase and an elegant pen. 

Harry felt the panic rise in his throat, interviews meant being alone with them—without Tony. He knew he wouldn't be able to get through it under those circumstances.

"I want Tony to stay," he said firmly, not even waiting for them to try and excuse the others.

Everyone but Tony looked surprised at this, but more so at his commanding tone rather than the comment itself. Harry could see the darkness start to vibrate in the corners of his eyes, they were responding to the dread of being alone and the fear that settled in his head. He blinked a couple of times, his nails digging into the leather. He could see Tony looking at the women expectantly, waiting for a reply. 

"Normally it is ideal to interview the child alone, removing any potential influence and swaying from their answers—"

"I refuse," Harry squeaked, feeling less brave now that the idea settled in his mind. "I—I can't alone. They'll…"

He swallowed, closing his eyes again to try and will the overwhelming feeling of the looming shadows back. He was safe, no one was going to hurt him, but having to relieve everything he just got away from alone again was too much to even imagine. They couldn't deny him the one request to keep Tony with him, they simply couldn't. Harry knew that he would lose control again like he did in the store, but this time he wasn't sure if he could keep it from hurting anyone. Not with how his mind swam with the intrusive thoughts and memories of his horrible past. 

"Breathe, squirt," Tony said, placing a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder. “It will be alright.”

Harry took a shaky breath, exhaling slowly, he focused on Tony’s voice.

“Here’s the deal,” Tony said, addressing the women, “Harry is in a very vulnerable position, and it is under my discretion to stay by his side throughout this entire process for his own sake. If you are unable to ask your questions without me here, then there’s no reason for this to continue.”

“Dr. Stark,” Justice half whispered beside him, tapping his arm. “This step is essential for your case.”

Harry wasn’t a fan of the tone that was made. He swallowed, knowing there were other ways to obtain information if they’d accept it in written form. It was just as good, he thought, since nearly everything creditable to anyone should be on paper in some form or another. Based on the recording device that he just noticed was placed in front of Justice and the papers the others had in front of them had anything to go off of, these people very much favoured a form of record keeping.

“There are other ways,” Tony replied, dropping his voice to the point where Harry could barely hear. “I won’t sacrifice his comfort and security for information.”

This response seemed to have caught the others attention. Harry could feel the atmosphere shift, but it wasn’t exactly uncomfortable. Instead, the women looked impressed by the reaction, and Harry only felt even more sure that nothing was going to stop Tony from keeping him. Not even government officials.

“Very well,” Mrs. Zabini announced, “You may remain in the room for Harry’s security. However, Harry—”

Harry went to attention at his name, focusing on the person in front of him as best as he could without directly meeting her eyes.

“—Answering our questions to the best of your ability is important, as well as everything that we will be discussing the next few hours. You understand that Dr. Stark cannot answer for you,” she explained, clasping her hands together over a pile of papers. “Everything will be recorded in written and audio form, so we will need your consent.”

Harry nodded in understanding, glancing over at Tony briefly to try and register what he was thinking. He seemed lost in thought as he fiddled with a pen in hand. “Yes, ma’am. I understand.”

The vibrations from the dark corners of the room had already settled at their compliance to his plea to keep Tony present. He closed his eyes and took a breath, trying to collect himself and find a way to not disconnect during this procedure that he didn’t even notice when Justice left the room and Tony had moved to sit in the corner closest to him, staying just within his peripherals but out of the way enough to not appear intrusive or distracting. 

“We can start whenever you are comfortable and ready.”

“Okay.”

After signing a piece of paper next to Tony’s stating that he was okay with the interview, the first few questions were easy, straightforward, and basic. They asked his full name (which he actually didn’t know that his full birth name was Haridard James Potter, only the name that the school had on file and used often when he attended countless detentions: Potter, Harry), age, grade, favourite subjects, and so forth. It was a simple build up to the more complex and uncomfortable ones, like if he knew his parents’ names, what was the name of the town they lived in, and if he knew what had happened to them.

Based on his reply that he was a car accident survivor that resulted in the scar on his forehead and the death of his parents, and in extension, the bouts of blackouts he endured since, the two appeared shocked at this. Harry couldn’t help but feel like they were hiding their disbelief behind it, and it made his heart plummet to his feet.

“Memory problems?” Mrs. Tonks asked, writing something down in the process. “Tell me more about this, if you could?”

“Um,” Harry stammered, not sure what to say, he looked to Tony for help, and his silent, very subtle head nod told him everything he needed.

They were treading into dangerous waters now, and Harry wasn’t sure if he could handle it after reeling a bit over the fact the name he had barely known his entire life wasn’t even his actual name. “Th-they’ve been happening since I was very young. The doctor I was taken to said it was because of the accident. O-or at least that is what my aunt told me.”

He knew there was no doctor involved, it was only a lie, but he couldn’t challenge it; it was too risky and he knew when it was best to simply accept answers as they were.

“How often do these blackouts happen?” Mrs. Zabini asked, her tone held concern as she intently listened.

“Pretty frequently, I guess,” he replied, swallowing.

“Have any happened recently?”

Harry only nodded, holding up a single finger. For some reason the lump in his throat silenced him.

“While under Tony’s care?”

Harry nodded, but then froze and shook his head just as quick. It wasn’t because of anything Tony did to him, just the situation that was the result of mixed signals. They must have understood what he was trying to imply based on the next question to clarify. 

“Any indication of what may have caused it?”

He knew what caused it, but to explain that he was simply overwhelmed by everything that was going on felt ridiculous somehow. Would they even understand?

“I was… um… there was a lot…” Harry stumbled out, his mind racing through everything that happened the day before that led up to his blackout. “S-Sunday was very… I was ov-very exhausted.”

“Understandable,” Mrs. Tonks gently said, her expression was empathetic. “Were they all related to your energy levels?”

Harry’s mind reeled then, remembering several incidents where his blackouts occurred after being yelled at while being tossed into his cupboard or aggressively handled. Some occurred later as a result of a punishment that varied from no meals to lashings from a belt or wooden spoon. Dare he say this? Could he muster the courage? If only they could read his mind, it would make everything so much easier for him.

“N-no. They happened a lot when I got into tr-trouble.” He recoiled into himself then, pulling his knees to his chest for security and protection. He could feel himself start to mentally check out, and the darkness that ebbed at the corners of his vision vibrated with his breathing. “I deserved it, though. The punishments…”

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Mrs. Tonks said soothingly, trying to reassure Harry. “You’re safe here. No one here will harm you.”

Though her expression showed genuine concern mixed with reassurance, it was difficult to read Mrs. Zabini. She was focused, but to Harry, it felt like she was hiding behind a very thin veil of control, almost like she maybe  _ could _ read his mind and was not pleased at all with what she saw in his memories. A hard, dry swallow was made and Harry looked down, weaving his fingers tightly together as his arms held his legs firmly against his chest. He knew this was integral information to share. The things he went through with the Dursleys, but it wasn’t anything he didn’t bring upon himself, right?

He could feel a sudden calm then, his mind went from crowded and cluttered to a dull static of a telly on a bad channel. It wasn’t really a pleasant feeling, and the wisps of smoke that seemed to emit from his hands were unnoticed by everyone else. He kept them hidden under the table, focusing on the wisps then, brushing his hands over them with small movements. He could hear himself speak, his tone monotonous as he recounted the incidents in recent memory that caused the blackouts. All of the reasons as to why he suffered the way he did fell out of his mouth, and every one was because of something he had done and supposedly deserved it. He dared not look at anyone as the way he spoke about each incident was worded in ways that directed the blame at him. It was what he was always told, that everything that went wrong or was inflicted on him was his fault, and thus was eventually conditioned to accept it.

“...it’s okay, though. It is my punishment as a result of surviving…”

“...my parents died because of me… I was a fussy infant and a distraction while they drove…”

“...some of the cleaning products had a potent scent…”

These reasons were all told from the Dursleys to explain the blackouts. Their rules about never asking questions prevented him from ever challenging what was stated, so it made the fleeting memory of a frying pan hitting him moot (was there even a frying pan in her hand?). Mentioning it now would feel alien, almost a lie, but they did ask and promised nothing would leave the room. The shadows never lied to him, they always warned him of the danger, he was just too scared to realize or acknowledge it before.

The danger right now was his own mind, and he couldn’t help that.

“S-some happened when I… when I might’ve been h-hit sometimes,” Harry said after a long pause.

His gaze had longed since dropped to his hands in his lap, watching himself pick at the corners of his fingers until the skin was raw. The burn on his hand was no longer visible, but if he flexed his fingers a certain way he could feel a residual dull prickling in protest at the motion. He did it when he needed a mental reset, a reminder to not trail away wherever he went when he blanked out in these situations.

“I—I don’t know how often it could’ve ha-happened…” he finished barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

Tony sucking in a breath startled Harry, and he turned his upper body in order to face him. He couldn’t read his face really well, like he was trying very hard to conceal how he felt about what he just heard to protect him. He risked a look at the two women sitting across from him and saw the same thing, it was a very different expression to what he saw on his relatives, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. It wasn’t disgust or disappointment, anger or fear. Before he could decode it, they shifted their papers and prompted another question.

“Are you able to answer one more question for us, Harry?”

He gave a slow nod, reaching for his mug that had long been drained just so his hands would stop picking at his nails.

“Has anything strange happened to you? Anything that you’ve not been able to explain within reason or physical possibility?”

The brief nod happened before Harry could register which of many incidents to focus on. “My aunt wasn’t fond of my rapid hair growth, if that is what you mean?”

“Yes, that is what I mean,” Mrs. Tonks said, smiling softly. “Have there been any other instances? Anything more unusual than rapid hair growth?”

“I did end up on the school roof once while getting away from Dudley and his gang…” Harry swallowed, not sure what to say, “...a couple of times. I-I couldn’t explain how then, either.”

“That’s alright, sweetheart,” Mrs. Tonks said reassuringly. “Do your best, if you’re able.”

“I-uh.. well, it just happened. I was on the ground, running, and then, a sha—something dark like… my shadow? Grabbed my legs and… then I was on the roof.”

“A shadow?”

The tone in Mrs. Zabini’s voice had Harry look up to see if what he said seemed too far fetched. No one showed disbelief, maybe a little shocked, but curious.

“Y-yes ma’am. It… the shadows… They move sometimes when things happen. I don’t really know why, they just do.”

“Has it happened recently?”

He only nodded, suddenly very scared of what they were going to do with this information. He watched the women fold their hands together in front of them and gave silent looks at each other before facing Harry. Mrs. Zabini waved a hand in the air, signaling Tony to come back to his side. The second Harry felt Tony’s presence near him he immediately felt calm. It was a feeling he was grateful for. She also disabled the audio recording Justice left behind.

“Now, we do not wish to alarm either of you with what we are about to disclose. I assure you that what I say is true,” Mrs. Zabini announced, looking between the two. “But Harry, you were born gifted with Magic. Your parents were also gifted with it, and Mrs. Tonks and I are both gifted with it. We are witches, and we are capable of performing real magic. Do you understand?”

Harry looked dumbfounded, staring at them in disbelief. “Yo-you mean…”

“You’re a wizard, yes. You can perform magic, too. The things you described are what we call accidental magical episodes and—”

The snap of a finger silenced Mrs. Zabini, drawing all eyes to Tony, who seemed to have processed it just as well as Harry did at the revelation. 

“A wizard?”

“Yes.”

“Born with magic?”

“That is correct.”

“So a sorcerer then,” Tony said, leaning back in his chair and swiveling it some so his hand could reach the table.

Tony started tapping a finger on the table. Harry watched the movement intently as he tried to figure out what he was wishing to convey in the conversation. For some strange reason, Tony didn’t seem as appalled or remotely shocked by this news as he probably should be. The man did fly around in a metal suit, after all, so maybe learning that magic is real wasn’t so surprising in his own version of reality.

Harry watched with his carefully placed peripheral vision to see between the three while looking out the window. He needed the mental rest, but couldn’t help but stop on the fact that his relatives were right, he really was a freak. And now Tony was starting to figure that out as well, and he won’t want him anymore because of it.

Mrs. Zabini gave a nod of affirmation. “In our world, we are called wizards or witches, but yes. A sorcerer is also correct. I hope that this doesn’t have you reconsider your effort in this case?”

“It doesn’t change a thing.” Tony looked at Harry, who dropped his eyes some, hoping that he wouldn’t change his mind about wanting to keep him. “It really does explain a lot, though.”

He looked up suddenly, unsure he heard correctly. “Y-you mean you…?”

Tony placed a light hand on Harry’s shoulder, leaning forward slightly. “I mean it.”

The sudden warmth that washed over Harry was exhilarating and relaxing at the same time. As if the two women wanted to reinforce the reality of magic, they magicked their pens to write without their hands on the papers before them, and seeing it unfold gave Harry a sense of belonging. Finally there was an answer to all the mysteries in his life, at least most of it.

Every tense area he held in his body was gone, and he soon found himself quite exhausted yet very happy. He didn’t even hear a single word exchanged between the three after that. He was going to be with Tony no matter what it took, and finally knowing that he could do magic explained so many things, but offered so many more questions as well. Before he knew it, the two women were on their feet shaking hands with Tony, and Harry politely waved as they left the room, leaving the two alone again.

“That was a lot to take in,” Tony said, checking his watch. “Care to get out of this stuffy place and grab some lunch?”

Harry would rather go take a kip, but his stomach betrayed him at the offering of food. Happy and Justice re-entered the room then.

“Perfect timing. We were about to get some grub. Want us to bring anything for you?” Tony asked, looking between the pair.

Happy pulled some keys from his pocket and handed them to Tony without a word. Harry was dead on his feet, idling while watching the room.

“Sounds good. Gives me a chance to exchange notes with the ladies in the meantime,” Justice said, busying themself with papers. “What were you craving?”

Tony looked at Harry, prompting for his attention. “I was thinking of getting some curry. Have you ever had it, Harry?”

Harry shook his head, dropping his shoulders some. He’d never heard of such a thing before, but he never ate anything ethnic sounding.

“Willing to give it a shot?” Tony asked, kneeling down to be level with Harry.

He must’ve picked up his uncertainty over something otherwise so trivial. Harry wasn’t used to being given the option to choose, after all.

“Or, we can get whatever you’re up for. I’m game for anything.”

“As am I,” Justice reinforced, easing the tension in the room.

Harry pondered it for a moment, and gave a light shrug. “I don’t know what it is, sorry.”

Tony pulled out his phone then, pulling up some pictures of the dish to show him. “It can be a bit on the hot, spicy side, but there are mild options, too. I personally love the mattar paneer curry. It’s not too potent, but still so flavorful and delicious. Lily’s was always divine—”

Harry perked up some when hearing his mother's name, though Tony looked taken back by the slip. Seeming to gauge the response Harry had, he watched the invisible tension vanish from his features.

"My mum cooked this?"

A soft smile formed on Tony's face, Harry could only assume that he was reminiscing now that he saw it didn't bother him. "Often, yes."

Harry looked at the pictures again before clicking on a recipe to read what was in it.

"I'd love to try it," Harry said after a moment, "my aunt never liked anything that looked foreign—"

He bit his lip at that, flinching at his own comment. It was something he heard often shouted at him from the Dursleys and kids at school, among other less pleasant names, and it must've subconsciously slipped into his own vocabulary once the opportunity presented itself.

"I mean…" he stammered for words to try and cover his mistake.

"Hey," Tony's gentle voice had Harry's mind stop in its reeling. "You're okay. I understand."

He gave a short nod, swallowing hard.

"Curry good for you, Justice?"

"Perfect. I am pretty sure that we passed by a place on the way here from the airport, actually…"

The conversation drifted as Harry chose to reprocess the morning. He barely recalled leaving the conference room and passing the two women he'd spoken to, which brought the revelation of being magical to the front of his mind again. He supposed it made some sense, perhaps the darkness and shadows responding unusually to him was because of it, after all. He hoped to talk to them again soon to learn more, but for now, the protests of his stomach made him feel almost queasy as the car started moving. He didn’t even notice that Tony opted to sit in the back with him again as Happy drove instead.

His whirlwind of emotions played a large part of the twisted knots in his chest, the excitement of trying a new food—something his mum used to make, even—was lined with nerves. What if he didn't like it? He hoped that it wouldn't tarnish the second hand memory of her Tony generously offered to him by pure accident. Though grateful, the wave of nerves toiled in his stomach again.

This was already a very long day.


End file.
